It Began With Blood
by xXFissshBonesssXx
Summary: Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for. Rated for mature situations in later chapters and explicit scenes. Please read with caution. There will be trigger warnings.
1. It Began with Blood

**It Began With Blood**

Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for, the prompt said. I kind of twisted that, so Thor decides for himself, but it will follow the lines of that.

**A/N:** Eventually there will be a MASSIVE trigger warning list. For now it's tame, a bit of foreshadowing of what is to come.

* * *

**EDIT: TRIGGER WARNINGS **

Please have a care when reading. This story will eventually include the following themes. The list is tentative for now and most of these elements are not yet canon, but _most of them will be_. This is _not_ to deter you from reading. This is a warning about upcoming events which might be offensive or harmful. PLEASE turn back now if you can not handle any of the following themes.

_You have been warned. _

**Non-Con, Dub-Con**

**Suicide Attempt**

**Violence**

**Gore**

Again, these themes are not yet part of the story, but _most of them will be_.

That said, read with caution.

* * *

**It Began with Blood**

* * *

The mortals are cute, thinking him restrained by some scraps of metal and links of chain.

The cuffs are cold and this does not bother Loki. The shackles are linked by chains so flimsy Loki must be careful in how he swings his arms when he walks, lest he break the clumsy clinking things. The muzzle serves not to hold his tongue. All it keeps Loki from doing is smiling about his bindings, for how utterly useless they truly are.

If Loki wanted to be free he would have long since cast aside the mortal's trinkets but he wears them still.

Let them think him confined. Let them think they know ways to shackle Loki's power.

His brother leads him to a clear space in the center of some clearing, a park with long stretches of planted false-field, trees constrained and trimmed to grow to the shapes mortals favor. The flowers scream for water and the grass moans for how it has been sheared short. Loki dims their voices as he walks ahead of Thor. Their cries are among so many that plague the open airs of Midgard and Loki will not hear them all lest his heart blacken entirely at ignoring every last one.

He wrenches himself from Thor's hold as they approach the dais, a clumsy circle of concrete meant probably for ceremonial purposes. How plain it is. Loki is insulted and quietly loathes the stones he steps on. Thor does not seek his arm again, knowing Loki will not attempt to escape. Not will all the Avengers gathered nearby and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents scattered about the park.

When the scientist (Thor's friend) returns the cube to his brother Loki lets his eyes flicker to the ground. He knows well they watch him. They have fought hard to earn this prize, the sight of a god cowed in defeat. He knows what they expect of him, that he will try for the cube or make some show with his brother before them, but more realistically that he will simply hang heavy with the weight of his defeat.

Loki knows what is expected of him. He will grant them this last privilege.

His brother does not waste words in parting with his mortal allies. He has done enough of that in the hours since Loki's recapture, making known his intentions: that he and Loki will return straight to Asgard, that he will see Loki before their (before _his_) Father, before he returns to tell of Loki's punishment and to fight alongside the Avengers once again. The Avengers linger close by, content to stand lax in comfortable clothes as Thor steps to stand facing his brother, the cube in its case between them.

In this moment Loki plays the part the mortals seek and his eyes dart up to cast about them. He sees their arrogant gazes and offers resentment, quiet malice, as much as he can muster in his gaze before Thor gestures with the cube set between them.

Loki's gaze falls to the cube. How strange, that he should suffer so much humiliation and such indignities, for so small an object.

Thor does not speak but Loki meets his eyes over the cube nonetheless.

The request is clear. Ever has it been Thor's way to be straightforward with what he wants.

Loki reaches out with a hand and takes the end of the cylinder.

Blue erupts around them and they disappear from the face of Midgard.

* * *

When the blue stops, they are not in Asgard.

They are not in any realm known to Loki, though it is also not a place unfamiliar to him. The demi-god finds himself in his shackles and his muzzle in a cave carved deep with runes. The walls are layered in carvings that reach the high ceilings and rove the edges of the floor. Rocks are ruined by symbols run too deep. Stone and slate alike are pierced by writings, long chains of command, and Loki finds his eyes wandering hurriedly over everything that there is to see. The cavern is large and not of a uniform shape. It has many corridors, each a different size, every last one overrun with runes and symbols in languages he knows and more he knows not. The floor is marred here and there but mostly just dusty from what must be long centuries of negligence. No one has been in these ancient chambers a long while.

There is nothing in the cavern save for the traces of fire, some echoing dampness from water or blood, stains of sacrifice and ritual but no tools exist in this place.

Loki cannot help the tremble of wonder that runs through him. He has been here but once before.

A noise calls Loki's attention. When he looks down, Thor is snapping the shackles on his ankles in his fingers.

Emerald eyes blink wildly at this. They are not in Asgard. Thor has lied to his precious mortals.

A wave of suspicion cresting with excitement fills Loki. His brother has not managed to surprise him in eons. Thor is a creature of habit and truth, predictable as the sun rising from the East every morning, yet he reaches up to pull away the metal links binding Loki's wrists to one another.

Loki dares not hope that his brother will free him entirely. Thor is not so dull as to think that Loki will thank him for this. There is much to be forgiven before Thor can hope that his brother will embrace him in fondness without using it as cover to stick a knife in his spine. His suspicions are confirmed when Thor catches his eye, sees his brother watching him work. The hard shine to his brother's blue eyes steals Loki's breath. There is the determination that Loki recognizes but something he does not know drives Thor as he crushes the metal cuffs at Loki's wrists. They fall apart in pieces. Loki expects a soft bruising to swell at his wrists after, a quick glance down reveals his concerns valid, blood already pooling in protest beneath the abused skin.

Then Thor stands to his full height before Loki. Loki raises a single slender brow and his eyes fall down, indicating his muzzle.

His brother's hands make quick work of the object, shattering it to pieces in an angry grip. The quick cracking of metal away from his face is little relief to Loki when Thor's hand slips past the destruction to cover Loki's mouth.

_Quiet_, Thor implores with stormy blue eyes.

_Peace_, Loki says with his, and nods to make sure Thor sees it. Whatever Thor has planned Loki will at least listen. He owes his brother this much for managing to surprise him. The way Thor's hand lingers over Loki's lips is a clear sign. Thor detested the muzzle when it was suggested, a mockery of Loki's punishment more than half a thousand years ago when his lips were sewn shut. He did not tell the mortals how futile it would be, that there was no technology to truly muzzle Loki's magics, but so great was the insult that Thor allowed them to think the muzzle would actually serve. There was satisfaction in Thor's eyes when the metal curled and groaned apart in his grip. The savage handling, so close to Loki's face, had caused him to start. Emerald eyes caught his brother's as the last bits and pieces of the insult fall away from the pale planes of the god's cheeks.

Thor's fingers are warm against his face, a silent request. Thor's eyes burn as his fingers slide from Loki's skin.

_Peace_, Loki's eyes say again, and he presses his lips into a thin line to show he will not speak. Thor nods this time. He has Loki's promise to stay silent. For what, Loki is eager to learn, and he stands without moving to let his brother play out his wordless appeal.

They stand in silence in that ancient place a long while. Thor's gaze is clouded. Loki is glad that his brother wears his heart plainly. It makes it all the easier to enjoy the warring emotions across his golden brother's face as Thor grapples with the last undone ends of his plans. He has won their freedom from Midgard and they are hidden from Asgard. Loki knows Heimdall cannot see them where they stand. The runes against the ceiling see to that. They are away from judging eyes and the sway of any other alliances they might hold. Here, in this secret and sacred place, they have only each other and all their long history between them.

Loki cocks his head slightly in the suggestion of amusement. Thor is not made for such thoughtfulness. The look of plotting suits him ill.

The thunderer finishes waging war across the planes of his mind and gives Loki his gaze plain. Their eyes hold a wordless conference, Loki looking and Thor looking, too. Loki for Thor's plot and Thor for Loki's reaction so far. The Liesmith holds his own counsel quiet before allowing a hint of approval to color his emerald eyes. They may yet take a turn Loki can find fault in but thus far Thor has impressed. If that is what Thor wants to see Loki will give him a glimpse, but just a glimpse. He must earn more.

The slight shining is enough, however, and Thor is caught between a smile and a grimace as he reaches for Loki's belt.

Loki lets his brother's hand slide along his hip to where his daggers lay hidden.

He keeps his wordless promise for silence as Thor drags out a single silver blade, its hilt too slender for his calloused palm. Loki's entire body is electric with anticipation.

Emerald eyes blow wide when Thor drags the dagger across his palm in an unmistakable gesture.

The cut is deep and diagonal across the flat of Thor's broad palm.

The cut is the beginning of a ritual that Loki knows from accounts rare and whispered.

The cut is a promise, a bond, and Loki knows that he is expected to draw the same shape in his own palm with that blade because that is how two men can become something more than themselves.

Blood splatters against the cavern floor. The dripping becomes a constant, a background to the hurried flood of thoughts in Loki's mind. Thor's own mind is made up. Loki knows this looking across the short distance between them as he stares into his brother's eyes. There is a bit of disbelief in his own, Loki knows this, too. And it only grows when Thor removes Mjolnir from his belt with his bloodied hand, gripping the hammer firmly, and setting the weapon on the floor between them with the handle at Loki's boots.

Loki's heart drums wild in his chest. This is not just the pact of a promise to be one, he realizes with a little reverence.

Thor is asking him to be his Blood Brother.

Loki eyes the dagger in Thor's hand with a new light in his eyes. What Thor is asking is the boldest request two separate souls can make. Loki has only ever heard of one pair truly succeeding along this path, has seen the damage wrecked upon the countless parties who tried it only to have it end in failure, has heard every warning against taking the dagger from his brother's palm and repeating his actions. The weight of the bond Thor is asking for is a weight Loki has never known. He wonders if he will be able to bear it, even for his brother, for whom he would hold up the weight of Yggdrasil and all the realms together.

Thor is asking him to be his other half. They are not soul mates. This would make them the next closest thing, barring becoming one entity.

There is a small pool by Mjolnir now. All his brother's blood against the rocks in the floor, dripping steadily from his palm. The dagger waits. Loki takes even breathes to quiet his mind and ease the thunder in his chest.

He has promised Thor his silence and now he understands why it had been sought. This way is better, he knows, though he cannot help the sting of resentment that comes with understanding. Words and tones and things left unsaid in the empty spaces between sentences would mar this request. Words are for Loki. They are his weapons and his defenses. They shield him and serve him and send many to ruin before him. Loki Liesmith, Wordsmith he is named, and aptly so. Thor has shown great insight in bidding Loki hold his tongue this day.

The bond of Blood Brothers is unbreakable. The familial bonds they share Loki could shatter, though it would take time. The brotherly bonds between them would take longer still, though the ends of them are frayed and worn already. Loki is not certain anything in the universe of his own reckoning or of any other's could truly break the bonds of love Thor finds them bound by. Loki is certain, that, should he take the knife from Thor's hand and cut his own, the bond they forge will connect them in certainty for eternity. It is one of few things in all existence which cannot be unmade once it is forged.

They would share everything. They would feel each other's pain, each other's pleasure, their sorrows and their joys, all their hurts and all their happiness.

They already share so much. Loki wonders if he can bear to share more because there is so little of him left to himself that his brother does not already know.

He has promised his silence but his eyes scream across the distance between them. Not 'why'. Reasons are irrelevant now. Thor has already cut himself open to Loki. The cut will not close until it is burned shut, by fire or by the blood of his brother's hand. It drains steadily onto the stones by their feet. The look on Thor's face does not shift as he bleeds. He will not draw back his hand. He will not take back his request.

Thor is asking a lot here. Loki should really take a little longer considering what his brother is demanding.

The puddle has expanded to a pool at their boots. Red are the rocks beneath Mjolnir.

Green eyes fall to the cut in Thor's hand. The split seeps red endlessly, the blood of his brother. The blood of a god.

It is wasted on the ancient stones, Loki thinks, or at least, it should not fall alone.

The dagger is plucked from Thor's outstretched hand by pale fingers.

Loki's eyes gleam with fire as he handles the weapon with incredible care.

His brother's expression is stone though there is a flicker, lightning flashing in Thor's eyes, when Loki finally pulls the blade against the skin of his palm.

A second stream of crimson starts.

Loki pulls his other hand to his belt and unsheathes his favorite dagger. It is laid with its handle towards Thor at his brother's boots, sinking a bit in the puddle of god's blood, in the exact fashion Mjolnir is placed before him. When Loki draws himself up again he sees the same tremor shaking his shoulders wracking through his brother. The only hint that Thor is also tingling with anticipation of the bond to come. Loki wonders if it shows in his face, lips pinched tight, how breathless he really is. It must. Thor's eyes crinkle at the corners, smiling though he does not. The two brothers allow more blood to run from the cuts in their hands. It falls over their weapons and their boots and the stone floor beneath them. They have only to join their hands at the seams of the cuts to be joined forever in this.

There are a handful of things Loki has at the tip of his silver tongue to say in a moment such as this. Things which cannot be said except falsely in any moment less intense. But his brother has had him promise to still and stow his tongue and so they reach out to each other in silence.

The only sound in the cave is that of their uneven breathing when the blood in their palms meet cupped between their joined hands.

There is no grand explosion of light, no sudden rush of magical flame as they complete the pact.

There is, however, a coil in the middle of Loki's stomach as he feels his magic sing beneath his skin. Something unwinds in Thor as well because his brother's mouth falls open in surprise. The line of their joined hands glows softly and they stare at it as they are flooded with something words fail to describe. It is strength. It is magic. It is love, bold and intimate and passionate and pure.

Loki knows himself and finds the invasion of Thor strangely welcome. The bond settles deep in his veins and in the vast valleys of his mind. His arms swell minutely and the pull of his lungs is made easier as he draws another uneven breath. He realizes that he is inheriting bits of his brother along the bond. Thor's strength in arms, his stamina. The warmth of a true Aesir. He wonders what Thor is inheriting but he suspects it is his magic and his resistance to cold. He feels a shudder take him as he is warmed from the palm up along his arm. Thor shudders, too, though from a sweeping chill, an icy creeping up along his arm.

Loki looks up and sees a flash of fear in Thor's gaze as they wonder the same thing. Can Jotun and Aesir be joined thusly? Loki curses his brother for not thinking of this important detail as the bond glows brighter in their clasped hands.

The bond swells and grows. It creeps, a physical light over their hands where they are joined, and pours over their wrists. The magic seems to take their races in stride and seeks to begin binding them at the bones. It sinks into their skin as it spreads. The pressure that comes with the light is odd, a distortion like being submerged in water or pulled along in deep space.

The light is slow to crawl over them completely. When it reaches Thor's neck, the golden god tenses, his grip nearly crushing his brother's hand. Loki finds that the pressure is not unbearable where before his fingers might have splintered from the pressure. Then the light reaches his own neck, and he is erased for an instant.

When he returns to himself he is not just Loki. His brother's beating heart thrums strong in his ears.

The glow is gone. Their hands drip but the flow is staunched between them.

Long do they stare at one another in wonder.

Eventually Loki unwinds his fingers from Thor's and turns over their palms to show the scars. Marked for life, marked even in death, two mirror images of the same cut. He traces the shape with his fingertips. It is a clean mark. It will always be. The dagger they used to draw it has sunk into the blood at their boots. The weapons on the stone floor are soaked on one side in deep crimson. The stains may never come out.

Thor's eyes seek his. Loki knows it before he looks up into his brother's gaze. He has always felt Thor's gaze on him before. Now it is as if he looks at himself, so well can he determine the weight of Thor's eyes on him. A spark of lust brushes the back of his throat and answers the question of what else Loki can feel of his brother's private wants.

He is delighted by the tiny revelation. That Thor has wanted what Loki wants.

He has no time to ask about it before Thor breaks their silence.

"Loki."

His name is wretched upon his brother's lips. The smile he offers his brother is incredibly unkind.

"Brother," Loki murmurs in reply, and then Thor is seeking his mouth, stepping forward and planting his boot in a puddle of their blood. The splash echoes in the silent cave. Thor kisses him like Loki will disappear out from under him. Loki kisses like Thor will cast him down and away. They grip at each other fiercely. The cave rocks for the passion eating at the ends of their grips, and Thor takes another step forward when Loki is pressed back. They walk backwards merged more than at the lips until they are at the cavern wall. Loki is pressed into the carvings of rune. Thor looses one of his arms from Loki's armor and braces them against the wall. Loki mirrors him, loosing his grip on Thor's cape and threading his fingers in his brother's golden mane. They share breath as they lean into the rock at Loki's back.

The cave is absent of dripping blood. Their quiet breathes fill its absence as they hold onto each other at the shoulders.

"I have you," Thor rumbles. Loki laughs.

"How long have you wanted to have me?" he snarks, but his brother forges forward, kissing the smirk off Loki's lips. The pressure is all warmth and possessiveness. Loki lets his brother claim his lips greedily, eager to have as much of Thor as he can. They need not fight over this. Loki's fingers grip firm in Thor's hair and he yanks back. Thor's mouth falls open and Loki seeks to fill the space between them with his tongue. The press of it against his brother's is the sweetest sin.

They war without words with their tongues caught between them. Loki lets Thor press him back into the wall and sighs for the firm grip at his shoulder and arm. His hands are busy holding his brother to him by his hair and his hip. Thor's mouth opens without prompting and Loki slips his tongue in again through the narrow parting of Thor's lips. His brother nudges their foreheads close. Loki feels his eyes flutter shut and lets Thor breathe into him.

"Long," Thor mouths into Loki's lips, "Longer than I can remember."

"You have made me wait a long time, then," Loki murmurs. "You must make up for time wasted."

His brother's hand is hot at his neck, his other still braced against the wall. Their mingling breath is hot and Loki can see the heat gathering at the thunderer's cheeks. But Thor holds them together at the forehead, his blue eyes storm-dark, and Loki already can tell that he will be made to wait longer still.

"I shall," Thor promises, "but first I would have your ear a while."

"I hope it shall not be a long while," Loki complains, but he allows Thor to slip back a bit and put some space between them, enough so they can breathe their own breath and not drown in the gravity of each other's lips. His brother draws a breath to mute the color building in his cheeks and fixes Loki with his gaze.

The demi-god is already wholly captivated. Thor allows for nothing less.

"Many are the wrongs I have done to you, brother," he begins. Loki is a little taken aback by the vein of his confession but he lets Thor speak uninterrupted. "Long shall I endeavor to recover what was lost between us. There is much I must try to make right. I would ask only to be given the chance to redeem myself. You said on Midgard that your slights were not imagined, I did not believe you. But I have seen the shadows to your eyes, the darkness which clings to you, and I know my words were spoken in haste and in boyish anger." Thor licks his lips quickly, as though his courage to say these things will fail him if he pauses a single instant. "You fell. We thought you lost, but I could have sought you. I could have looked. Heimdall does not see all, though there is little his gaze misses, but I know better now, that there are spaces between the stars his gaze skips. Had I any hint of your survival from the fall from the bridge there is no space I would not have looked for my brother."

"I failed you, Loki," Thor admits miserably, "and I beg your forgiveness for this."

"You shall have it," Loki assures him softly, "when I deem that it has been earned."

There is a shudder to his brother's shoulders and somehow Loki knows that he has said exactly what Thor expected him to. Loki longs to pull Thor back against him but he does not. His brother is not finished speaking.

"I let them shackle you," Thor rasps. It is nearly a whisper. "I let them put my brother in chains, like some animal. Like a _beast_."

"You shall be forgiven for that quicker if you kiss me again."

"Patience," Thor warns, his eyes flashing darkly, "You shall have my lips when they are finished making my piece heard."

"Then speak, thunderer," Loki hisses, rolling his shoulders back and exposing the pale of his neck enticingly, "and let me know plain your intent. I would have you beg of things other than forgiveness from me."

Thor snarls wordlessly and stares into Loki's eyes. For a moment Loki feels something like fear although it is twisted. The twist comes from the new bond they share, and Loki realizes that it feels different because he is not the only one feeling it. Thor is afraid, too.

"I _lost_ you."

"I am here now," Loki breathes, barely audible. The cave sings with electricity ready to cackle. At any moment can the quiet be pierced by an explosion. Every breath may be the last pause before a sudden shift in atmosphere. Thor shares Loki's insight to this and chooses his words carefully, and it shows in how slow he next speaks.

"I would let everything burn, brother, for you. All the realms and Yggdrasil itself. I choose you over everything."

Loki cannot hear himself as he swallows.

"Over all the realms," Loki echoes, "and everything they hold?" Thor nods. "What of Midgard? What of your allies? What of your maiden there?"

"I choose you, bother," Thor repeats, and Loki bites back a groan at the sudden roll of lust this brings. He wonders how far Thor has thought to promise him.

"What of (our) _your_ Father?" Loki asks, "What of the Warriors Three, and of Lady Sif? What of Asgard?"

"I still choose you," Thor says. There is no pain or pause in this admittance. Loki finds it steals his breath.

"I choose you, Loki. I refuse to let you fall. I will not let you go." His hands are already in a vice-grip around Loki. His gaze is a heavier weight to be under, though the pressure at his wrists may be enough to break his bones. "I am yours, brother, and now you are mine. We are each other's, through this. Let me make up for my transgressions past. Let me seek forgiveness from you for letting you fall." The golden god, son of the All-Father, great thunder-bringer and storm-summoner Thor, burned into Loki with the intensity of his gaze.

"I will follow you, whatever path you take. I shall step beside you into Valhalla or forge us a path at the gates of Hel. You need not fear loneliness now. I have you, and you have me."

He took Loki's hand and looked into his palm. The cut was healed along his palm but the scar remained. Thor pressed his lips down into it.

Loki leaned his head back into the wall of the cavern.

By blood was it begun.

By nothing ever would it be undone.

A grin split his face.

"I am hungry," he said suddenly, unable to keep the delight from his eyes as Thor swelled with anticipation before him, "and long have I been away from Indunn's orchards. Let us pay her a visit, brother, and sate both our hungers." He slipped his hand from Thor's hair to his waist and pulled them flush against the cave wall. "Then perhaps I shall let you seek the forgiveness which starves you so."

They parted only to retrieve their blood soaked weapons from the stone cold floor. The puddle remained long after they vanished from the cave.

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**A/N:** FIN part 1 aka the _prologue_. This turned much longer than planned incredibly quick. Fuck.


	2. Interlude Ill Omens are Oft Ignored

**Interlude** - _Ill Omens are Oft Ignored _

* * *

The fields were flush with fruit and foliage as summer could make them. Every tree of the orchard spiraled thick and tall towards the blue skies, every branch burst with green leaves and twigs. The grass was pleasant to walk on without sandals or boots and the layers of leaves cast long patches of shade from the sun's hearty rays. Tiny honeybees buzzed busily about the multitude of tiny white apple blossoms. Their song colored the wind as they worked tirelessly about the fields.

Two figures stepped through the grass and the soft hum in the air.

"The Harvest will be excellent this year," Thor observed. The branches seemed to groan with the golden fruit.

He and his brother continued on through the soft grass together, quietly weaving around tree and honeybee. The day was pleasant and they were unwilling to break the peace in this place. Thor's hammer was turned so the side soaked in red was against his hip. Loki had drawn in all his powers of causing chaos and mischief, wary of misusing them in so important a place.

_Of course,_ he thought with a wicked grin, _all the greater was the temptation for the great need not to be mischievous._

As if drawn by the interruption in their thoughts, the orchard's hostess appeared.

"Hail, sister," Thor said at once, dropping his head in a gesture of greeting. Loki repeated the sentiment softer than his brother but mirrored exactly the inclination of his head as Thor had done. The goddess's eyes gleamed as they caught the sun.

"Hail, brothers," Indunn greeted in return, dropping her knees and raising the long white lengths of her skirt a fraction of an inch. She rose a hand and let them both draw near to take it in turn. Thor's kiss was warm against her knuckles and tickled. Loki's kiss was quick and cool but it also left her tickled. Her smile seemed brighter when the two Princes drew back.

"Long has it been since I had the pleasure of your company together," she said as she turned to lead them through the orchards, "Have you at long last set aside the differences which plagued you? Or is your peace bought only for the afternoon in which you would borrow your sister's company?"

"The peace is just begun," Loki answered as they folded in behind their host's footsteps, "but this one shall last the longest, longer than all the others."

"Good," was the goddess's bright reply, "I am always fond of your company. I shall be glad for your visits if they are to be as you say."

They spoke of matters bearing no importance. Indunn was confined to the orchards, for growing the golden Apples to keep the gods immortal was a task which could not be plagued by distractions, and so she delighted in hearing tales of the other realms. Loki spoke fondly of Alfheim and Thor warmed the air with his tales from Midgard. They took care not to mention anything unfit for the ears of maidens, for Indunn, old as she was, remained yet a beacon of purity and innocence. She had no care to hear of sordid or bloody tales and so they told only of their least gruesome adventures or endeavored to withhold what details could be omitted. It warmed Thor more than the sun on his shoulders to see Indunn's smile as they spoke and to hear her laughter ring between the telling of their tales and the buzzing of her honeyed companions.

She lead them to the far edges of her great garden and begged them pause a moment in their tale-telling so she might fetch them each an Apple. The golden fruits were as beautiful as ever Thor remembered them when they came away from the great tree's laden boughs. They caught the light of the sun and reflected its sheen with a golden glimmer. An Apple was placed in each of their hands when Indunn instructed they hold them out.

"Eat and rest," Indunn bid them with a smile like the summer sun, "I will away a while to water the gardens. If you are here when the task is done I shall make you each a pack to take with you on your travels."

"Then we shall be here when your task is done," Loki promised and they inclined their heads again when the golden-haired goddess excused herself to attend her duties.

Thor tossed his Apple up in the air several times when they were alone. Loki started in on his without pause, licking away what juices fell from the corners of his lips. He shut his eyes to savor the flavor. Seeing Loki's pleasure in eating, Thor caught his golden fruit a last time and took a large bite.

His face twisted and he looked to his Apple.

Loki looked up from his, curious at his brother's disappointment.

"There has been some mistake," Thor bemoaned, "A sour Apple!"

"Surely not," Loki hushed him, knowing the orchard's hostess was nearby somewhere, "There has not been a rotten Apple in a thousand years. Give it here, I will measure it."

Thor threw him the fruit and watched as Loki took a bite.

"You exaggerate," the chaos-god chastised his brother when he finished his morsel, "This Apple is as fine as mine."

"Lies," Thor accused, taking back his fruit, "Ever have Indunn's Apples been the best thing in all the realms. There is no fruit to match its sweetness."

At this, Loki rose an eyebrow, and looked down at his own Apple. Ever had they tasted tantalizingly tart, not sweet, to him.

Thor caught his brother's thoughtful expression.

"Loki?"

The Liesmith looked up at his name.

"Perhaps your tongue has changed since we have been away," he suggested mildly.

Thor frowned at his fruit.

"But why? I miss the sweetness I have ever known and loved." He looked slightly upset at his brother's suggestion. "Will all the Apples seem sour now? What an unkind change."

Loki rolled his eyes. He took a bite of his own Apple, too large to finish, and beckoned to his brother. Thor looked over to see Loki lean into the trunk of a tree with the Apple half in his lips and grinned.

He let his own Apple fall to the grass as he took the half from Loki's mouth.

The fruit was sweet again on his tongue when he took it from Loki's lips, sweet was the touch of Loki's fingertips along his hips and back. Thor forgot his disappointment and chewed with a smile. Loki smirked and licked the juice from the corners of his brother's mouth. They leaned into the tree trunk a while and kissed away any memory of sour apples.

Eventually a call from the orchards drew them apart. Thor let up his brother and looked to where his own Apple had fallen, forgotten.

None of Indunn's golden Apples ever should go to waste, he thought as he stooped to pluck it from the ground.

Loki was away already and called back to Thor to hurry, lest they keep their hostess waiting.

Thor started to follow. He took a bite out of his Apple unthinking.

Though he ate the entire thing to the core, Thor could not help but wonder why its sweet flesh had become so bitter.

* * *

**FIN Interlude**


	3. A Bargain and a Boon

**It Began With Blood**

Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for, the prompt said. I kind of twisted that, so Thor decides for himself, but it will follow the lines of that.

**A/N: **No warnings. Spoilers for the Avengers movie, the veeeery end of the movie, but yeah. So. Spoilers warning.

Jeez these chapters are long.

* * *

**A Bargain and A Boon**

* * *

Traveling with the Tesseract is nothing like riding the Bifrost.

The Rainbow Road is a certainty, a firm surface upon which to stand, though it is made entirely of light. It crashes through space and finds no resistance where it flows. The dark corners of the Universe are illuminated by its radiance. So bright is its shine that riding its crest one needs no other light to lead by than that of the Road itself.

The Cube dissolves them and they go as bits and pieces of themselves. Whey the arrive where they are headed Thor is not certain that all the bits of him are in the right order, and he stumbles on his first step.

A slender arm bars him across the chest, and Thor laughs at the pressure. Before the weight of him would have thrown Loki. Now his brother, slighter in figure than Thor by far, holds him from falling with half a care.

It is the first sign of their bond.

The thunderer feels a spark of curiosity across the back of his hand as Loki presses him upright. What else do they now share?

"Patience," Loki scolds, as though Thor has spoken his curiosities aloud (he has not), "and have a care where you step. The floors here are made for lesser beings, you will crush the stone if you do not step lightly." His brother's hands leave his chest and Thor finds his footing with the care Loki bids him have. "Follow me."

As the emerald-clad god walks ahead of him, Thor takes in their surroundings. The sky is open wide around them. The stars hang close in the broad black canvas. They are not on Midgard, nor are they on Asgard. It seems to be another secret place. He wonders how many private places Loki knows, how many holes and crevices his brother has discovered to hide himself away from Heimdall's all-seeing eyes. The memory of his brother's absence comes back and Thor shakes himself to forget it. They are not so far removed from the hours Thor thought himself rendered an only child. The skies of Asgard had never seen clouds so thick.

He bullishly brought himself out of his thoughts and took again to studying the ground. It was as his brother had warned. The soil cracked beneath their boots, despite how light they tread, and more than once did Thor have to pull himself up from crumbling rock and stone. He knew Loki, for all that the slighter god complained of his brother's bulk when they grappled, was several stones heavier than himself. Yet his brother's boots left no trace in the ground as he lead them among jagged rock walls and between steep climbing cliffs. Their footprints covered several miles before Thor thought to ask where Loki led them.

"Do you remember when you ran me into the ground," Loki said conversationally, "When you first returned to Midgard?"

Thor winced. "Aye, brother. I remember."

"Do you remember what I said?"

"You said much."

"That I did," Loki agreed, "But tax your mind a bit and think back on my words."

Thor felt his brow furrow but dutifully mulled about in his head for the right memories. They had spoken of several things on that cliff. Loki held long in his heart many insults which were years behind them, but he had spoken of several directly that eve.

"You said you had lived in a shade," Thor murmured, his voice growing so quiet Loki turned his head to better hear, "that I had thrown you into the abyss."

He stopped walking. Loki took a step further but stopped as well. Thor's golden mane hung down around his face, so low was the tilt of his head. His entire body was heavy with guilt. So clearly did he wear it without shame that Loki reached out a hand and pulled up his chin. He found Thor's eyes wet with unshed tears. When he spoke, his voice was utterly wretched.

"I let you fall."

"Thor," Loki started, but the thunderer shook his head out of his brother's gentle grip.

"I could have reached your hand, had I but stretched. I could have taken your fingertips, your wrist. I could have."

His shoulders shook with a single great shudder. Seeing the extent of his brother's grief, Loki did not chide him for being dramatic, only bit back his taunts and schooled his face into placidity. For all that he was here now it seemed Thor still had grieving to let.

The hand laid on Thor's shoulder mostly went unnoticed. Loki let him weep between the hidden crevices of hard rock and jagged stone edge beneath the stars.

"Yes," Loki said when Thor wiped his eyes dry, "I fell. But at the far end of Gungnir, Thor, beyond your reach, or the All-Father's."

"I should have drawn you up, then," Thor argued, but Loki pressed his palm against Thor's mouth.

"I fell," Loki repeated, "but that is not what I meant you to recall from our conversation. Mind my words, and think no more on it for now. What else can you remember from our talk on the cliff?"

"I bid you come home," Thor said, seeking to steady his voice again as they started walking along side one another.

"You did. Think again. You're quite close."

They had spoken of much, yes, but they had only shared a few minute's solitude before Iron Man had finished their conversation for them. The thunderer took on a quiet thoughtfulness as his brother led them on the unmarked path he seemed to be following. They had spoken of their differences, he recalled. They had spoken of the Cube and its location. Loki meant him not to think on Thor's plea for Loki to follow him home, or of the clinging wrong done to Loki from their younger years. A patch of their conversation pushed far from Thor's mind suddenly cropped up fresh. The stormy look broke into realization across the golden god's face.

"You spoke of being a King."

Loki smiled.

* * *

They walked together under the stars for some distance longer until Thor began to wonder how long they would wander. His brother kept him occupied by choosing rigorous paths through the rocks, ones which required at least half their concentration to climb. "Do not think I am blind to your tricks, Loki," Thor warned as they scaled a cliff face together. "You are no longer as mulish as you once were," Loki admitted as he swung himself up another three meters with ease, "but I mean not to trick you. Come, climb faster. We are nearly there."

Thor never asked where they were headed, despite their long trek across whatever ruined rock the Tesseract had taken them to. Loki had not told him but whatever the reasons he had for being vague, Thor trusted his brother, completely now that they had bonded truly through blood. Loki had some purpose in their climbing over the face of this heap of soil and rubble. His only clue as to where they might be headed was his last revelation about their conversation.

_You spoke of being a King_, he had said. His memories were not as sharp as his brother's, but he could hear Loki's words in his mind, sharp and cutting and powerful hurt.

_I mean to rule them. And why should I not?_

He had some idea of where they were headed when at last Loki stopped leading them and turned on his heel to face the thunderer.

"We are very close now, brother." He held out his hand expectantly and Thor brought the glass cylinder between them, though he did not give it over with Loki tugged to take it. Thor looked to his brother and did not have to ask. Catching sight of Thor's expression, Loki knew at once that now was the time to give up obscurity and tell Thor plain their destination. "I will have much to say when we meet our host," he warned, holding Thor's gaze with his, owning all his brother's attention, "You know how my tongue can run on ahead of my intentions. The things we will speak of next are very important. I cannot afford you to offend our host, so I will have your word that you will not draw Mjolnir while we exchange words."

"If there is cause for drawing her then I shall," Thor muttered in protest, but Loki was insistent. Eventually he allowed himself to give up his word that he would not draw his weapon in the halls of their host. The way Loki's eyes bore into his while he waited for the promise was the only hint of trepidation Thor could see, though that it would show in his eyes was warning enough to give Thor pause to guard his own thoughts. Whoever they were meeting, or whatever they went to meet, gave Loki reason to guard his tongue and mind his manners.

He suddenly wished dearly to know where he had let himself be led.

He was about to find out, he supposed, as Loki turned away with Thor's promise of peace and headed up a carved stone stair.

Carrying the Tesseract in the hands meant to wield Mjolnir, Thor followed.

The stair was not long but it wound several times through the rock until Thor was certain they had passed upwards into a different plane of existence. He could not explain with words the sensation of passing through rock and starlight but he knew the feeling of traveling between realms, and this was very close. The constant tap of his brother's boots ahead of him was little comfort to be led by. The cube threw soft blue light against the steps as it was carried. It pulsed soundlessly in the glass cage, not enough to disturb Thor's careful grip.

When again they emerged from the spiraling stair through the cover of rock Thor found them at the end of a hundred spears.

Loki seemed unsurprised by this greeting.

"Remember your promise," he hissed when Thor's hand went to his side.

"I wish I had never given it," Thor rumbled ruefully as they eyed the company at the spear's other ends. They were alien, some hybrid species not known to Thor. They resembled the Chitauri and the giants of Jotunheim but were somehow dissimilar to either race. Whatever they were, their grips on their weapons were steady. The lances shone in the gentle starlight, a hundred sharpened points lined to strike into their hearts in the next breath.

Loki started forward as though they weren't there.

Thor wanted to throw out a hand to stop him but the spears parted where Loki walked. Frustration drew itself across Thor's brow as he took up the Tesseract again in both hands and started after the infuriatingly calm figure clad in emerald and gold. Thor found he had the same ease of passage as Loki before him. The spear tips were close enough to scratch his armor and yet they drifted apart where he moved.

Thus accompanied did the two brothers cross the distance between the stair and a figure swathed in blue. The creature was humanoid. It stood on two legs and had hands like a man, save for an extra blue-grey thumb on either appendage. When Loki drew up to it, its lips split in what might have been a smile, but took on the appearance of a toothy grin. Thor wondered what it ate; its fangs were stained bright scarlet. The creature exchanged a few short lines of dialogue with Loki in a language unknown to Thor. The thunderer regarded it with hard eyes as it bared its fangs several times. He found it disgusting to look up and disquieting to listen to. He hoped that their business with it was brief, so their time in its presence could be made shorter. Loki seemed to share this sentiment. A moment later the thing was drawing its cloak around itself and turning its back to them. They watched it disappear up a short stair, murmuring greetings to what must be the host of this place.

"Do not speak if you can help it," Loki suggested.

"Worry not," Thor said with a grimace, "I shall leave the talking to you, Lord Silvertongue."

"Very good," Loki murmured. Even at his side, Thor could feel his brother drawing all his arts about him like a cloak.

The figure wrapped in blue descended again the stair and gestured with a hand at the small army. At once all the lances were lowered and drawn away. Without a sound they withdrew to the walls and stood as still as stone. Privately impressed at this, Thor could not help wondering if they were constructed of stone. It would not be an insult to say the planes of their flesh were as rough as the ground beneath them.

"My Master awaits," the cloaked thing announced in the All-Tongue, sweeping aside with a six-fingered hand to motion at the stair. Loki swept forward without invitation and Thor took after him. They did not look back when they took to the steps.

Thor had been given many clues about what was to come, and he had inherited some of Loki's skill in connecting two misshapen pieces to the same puzzle. _Not enough did I receive of Loki's cunning,_ Thor mused as they finished the short stair, _to know exact his intentions here._

Stormy blue eyes dropped to the cylinder in his hands.

_But I can hazard a guess._

"You have returned."

The voice came from a throne turned to face the stars. The sound of it made Thor grit his teeth behind pursed lips. It was even more terrible than that of its spokesperson, a grating between shrill and rocky, but at least it was intelligible. When the figure drew itself up from its grand chair the air seemed to blanch about them. The figure came around at last and stood before them in plain sight.

Thanos was a broad man-shaped titan. His chest spanned wider than Thor's, his arms and thighs corded with thick muscle. He wore a cape that fell just above his ankles, yet when he moved there was a hissing, as though it swept along the floor. Heavy gold boots carried him from his throne to stand expectantly before the demi-gods with his gloved hands empty at his sides. Thor was vigilant of Loki beside him though he kept his stare hard ahead. His hand itched to rest on Mjolnir's handle.

They all of them stared hard at one another for the space of half a minute. Then, Thanos inclined his head.

Thor waited until his brother mirrored the motion to dip his own brow. Unwritten were the rules to measure shows of courtesy between titan and godkind.

"Hail, Thanos, first-son to the King of Titans," Loki said, his tone laden with charm, "And see the prize your ally brings! Betrayed, outcast, lost among the long spaces between the stars did Loki drift before he was found. A single boon was begged to weigh the great favor done to him. The collection of an artifact."

He beckoned. Thor did not need to look his way to know what Loki wanted, and lifted the glass cylinder in his hands.

"A trinket."

The figure before them split wide its face with a crooked smile.

"Hail, Loki, second-son to Odin-AllFather," Thanos boomed, "Bearer of great gifts and sweet-speaker! Unkind was the Fate which caused our meeting; unkinder still was the treatment shown to my ally for the great pains he endured in obtaining his gift. The token he comes bearing is hard won from those who sought to cling to it with fingers green with greed."

The titan's glowing eyes fell to Thor around the Cube. They were wrinkled with suspicion. When next Thanos spoke all gracious courtesy was set aside from his tones.

"Mine are not the Eyes of the Gatekeeper, yet there is little which is not seen. Last did my eyes catch sight of you, Thor Odinson, putting shackles to your brother's wrists."

"And yet your ally returns without them," Loki replied mildly, turning his free wrists as if to prove the point.

Thor bit his tongue behind his lips.

There was a decided pause in their dialogue, a moment where Thor could feel tension begin to sing in the air about them. Then Loki turned suddenly and lifted the Cube neatly out of Thor's hands.

The great man-shaped creature let out a booming laugh at the thunderer's start. Thor's brow furrowed slightly at being played the fool but, mindful of his brother's warning, kept his tongue in check. Better to seem a fool than to cry out in confusion and prove it. Thanos and Loki met halfway. Their expressions were pleasant and light but each stepped with decided purpose. The cylinder broke away into a thousand shards around the Cube, though they disappeared in the air without cutting either party. The blue light of the Tesseract blazed now, pulsing outwards in steady beats, as if sentient and curious at the change of ownership. It drifted from the space between Loki's upturned palms into the gloved fingertips of the titan.

He turned it twice over in inspection and Loki made a quiet noise of disapproval.

"Even with all the cunning and knowledge of craft at my disposal would I be hard-pressed to forge a copy of the Cube," Loki said, the sentiment bitter on his tongue. Thor recognized the insulted tone in Loki's admittance.

"I meant no insult, Asgardian," the titan insisted placatingly, "so allow me a moment to marvel at the gift which is come, the gift which had been promised to be granted. So often do such promises go unfulfilled by the parties of your own position."

The Cube pulsed several times as Thanos turned it over. The energy it threw out brushed against their flesh though it seemed but harmless blue light. It was good to look upon, thought Thor. Beautiful even. Pleased with his inspection Thanos intoned a request to be pardoned for his brief absence and turned from them to retreat to his throne. Thor chanced a sidelong glance at his brother while they were at the titan's back. The god's shoulders were pushed down in a forced calm, his face the image of polite contentedness as they were made to wait a moment on their host. A sense of relief was pressing at the edges of his mind, what was the expression on Midgard? Having evaded a bullet? A sound drew his eyes and Thor looked to the throne in time to see a case being erected up around the Cube. Glass and gold fell into place around it. The Tesseract threw out little light now and seemed to hum in content from within its new housing. When the Cube stopped pulsing Thanos left his throne to entertain his guests.

"So is our business with one another concluded."

"Actually, I wasn't done yet."

Thanos' brow furrowed. Thor felt a spark of uncertainty at how bluntly Loki spoke, but this seemed not to be the titan's concern.

"You would seek another boon of me?" he rumbled. The furrow in the crevices of his thick brow only deepened at Loki's affirmative. Thor kept his breathing quiet and sought to make his presence as small as possible. He was ignored well enough without his efforts.

"I would," Loki said, stepping forward from his brother's side, better to make his request heard. "Hard-won did you call the prize Loki bought you."

"Hardly won," Thanos scoffed, "An entire army Thanos granted in effort to aide you in this task. Where is that army now?"

"They were hardly of the quality caliber promised," Loki argued, "A handful of mortals with toys and a bit of strength held them at bay."

"They were valiant fighters," came the low-pitched reply, "and they were wasted all upon Midgard, wasted by your leadership."

The air crackled sharply with electricity.

Thor endured two disbelieving gazes with arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Have care how you speak," he said with a severe look at their host, "We did not come to bear undue insults."

"Quiet, Odinson," Thanos warned, "Or I shall turn you to glass."

The tension was tangibly charged.

Loki's quick tongue only won them again into safe grounds. "We did not come to bear insults because I have already been insulted. The creatures of Midgard sought to imprison a god." Emerald eyes blazed with promises of retribution.

"I would have revenge for this slight."

The deep lines of the titan's brow unwrinkled at this admission. His frown lifted immediately into a great grin.

"And how might Thanos aide Loki in his quest for vengeance?" The titan's tone was suddenly generous and he swept broad a heavy arm, "There is no cause to support more heartily than the righting of slights against my allies. Those who raise a hand against Loki Liesmith have raised their hand against Thanos. The sealed Fate of fools. Come, speak freely of your needs! Have no care in what you ask of me, another army will be made ready to march if such is your need."

"I do not require much that is not within my powers to obtain for myself," Loki voiced, "But my staff was broken."

Thanos drew a hand in the air and gestured. The air shimmered a moment and then a golden length unfolded itself from the darkness. It was exactly as Thor recalled it from their battle on Midgard. It stood suspended in the air a moment then Thanos gestured for it to drift to its rightful wielder. Loki plucked it from the air and turned it over twice with facetious care.

The titan grinned terribly.

* * *

They parted company without further ceremony, Loki turning on a heel and leading Thor back down the winding stair. They did not pause to parry words with Thanos' Spokesperson, nor did they break their stride for the hundred steel points at their backs when they descended the second set of stairs. A crude call was made at their rear when they vanished through the passageway. Since Loki paid it no mind, neither did Thor.

At last they came again to the vast expanse of rock and rubbly at the stair's end. The thunderer took aside his brother's shoulder with a firm hand. Loki let himself be led a while away from the spiraling stair without protesting at the rough treatment. The odd spell of silence between them went unbroken a while until they were half back to where the Tesseract had first deposited them. Finally, Thor broke it.

"You would return to Midgard?"

"Aye," Loki said, staff in his unabused arm.

"Maybe more of your wit will Thor inherit over time through our bond, but for now appease his sluggish mind of the strain of trying to put all the clues together for a clear answer, brother. What are your intentions for the Middle Realm?"

Thor stared hard at Loki for this answer. The slight made against Loki had been grave indeed. He could see now the validity in his brother's claim. Loki had put it best - lesser beings had imprisoned and sought to shackle a god. Such impudence would never go unpunished if heard of on Asgard, or in any other Realm known to Thor. And yet knowing what his brother's answer would lean toward Thor still held out hope in a distant corner of his heart that he might not be as clever as to perceive the plain truth of Loki's intent.

Cold was the smile Loki offered his brother's inquiry.

"I seek to return to Midgard to send it to ruin," Loki said, drawing himself up to his full height, "and then to rule what handfuls of its people survive my wrath."

"It would be a lie to say that this was not the answer I expected," Thor murmured, "though in my heart I had hoped it would not be so."

Loki did not let Thor wrap his disappointment around him, stepping forward smartly and drawing his brother's chin up with a palm. He fixed the thunderer with his gaze, making sure his eyes caught sight of the rage hot across Loki's cheeks.

"Did you not already make your choice in this?" he hissed, snatching at Thor's hand with his other. The blonde god hissed through his teeth as Loki's fingernails bit into the scar bed of his hand. The pain was short and sharp but it matched the livid tone of his brother's snarl.

"Did you not choose _me_?"

"_Peace_!" Thor shouted, and Loki started back from the sudden boom. The taller god snatched out his hand and kept Loki drawn close. There was a rage mirroring Loki's own broken across Thor's golden brow, though he was straining to quell it back as quick as it had sprung up. The Liesmith swallowed the rest of his complaints, wary of provoking his brother into another outburst of undue proportion. Causing Thor to shout in such close proximity was an invitation to the discontinued health of Loki's perfect hearing. They fell again into silence and Thor began to wonder if this was their fated future, to quarrel endlessly at every opportunity, to be pressed back into quiet and remain there for fear of saying something to provoke one another. He had hoped that the bond would align them in a manner constructive to avoiding such conflict. Perhaps it was yet early to hope that anything could sooth the habit over a thousand years in place.

Thor let go Loki's wrist with a frustarted cry. Loki did not draw back once free but stepped to Thor's side and dragged down on his cape a bit to lower his shoulder. Thor dipped slightly and Loki snuck his head into the space at his brother's shoulder.

"We will never know such peace," he said gravely, longing bitter in his throat, "We know too much of each other for it to be any other way."

The thunderer scoffed but did not deny it. He knew Loki spoke true.

They stood a minute under the starlight without sharing their thoughts. Eventually Loki drew back from Thor's shoulder and threaded his fingers into Thor's. The thunderer came when he was tugged.

"We will find another place to make our pieces heard," he said soothingly when Thor cast him a questioning look, "Do not resist when I pull you. Heimdall will be looking for us. So long as you follow me exactly, he will miss us. Come."

Thor came. They took seven steps and vanished.

* * *

**FIN part 2.**

Gonna be recounting these bits in parts, not chapters, due to there being more Interludes planned which may or may not follow the timeline. So end part 2. Thanks for reading (:


	4. Interlude Wishes Unwisely Spent

**Interlude** - _Wishes Unwisely Spent _

* * *

"I wish it would rain."

Tony heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly, Clint? The one crystal-clear day Seattle sees out of the entire year and you want to ruin it? I'm sorry. We can't be friends anymore."

"Hush, you," the Archer said, "It isn't right, Seattle without the cloudy sky. I could tell the time here by how dense the clusters were."

The streets of Pike Place were accustomed to heavy traffic but the open market at the edge of a bay rarely saw days so sunny and devoid of grey as this day. Plus, word that Tony Stark would be dropping by the very first Starbucks for a quick cuppa had been leaked, so the streets were nearly impossible to maneuver through.

"I can tell you the hour by my watch," Tony replied as they scooted past a small gaggle of squealing Asian school girls, outfitted in predictably matching uniforms and all clutching paraphernalia and sharpie pens, "That's what watches are for."

"We're never gonna get out of here," Clint grumbled as Tony stopped for the sixth time on the same block to flash a winning smile and picked up a sharpie.

* * *

"I wonder what the bureaucracy is like back on Asgard."

"Hello, and welcome to Starbucks, Mr. Stark! What can I get started for you today?"

"It's a Monarchy, if I remember right," Clint supplied, "Thor's the Prince. His dad is King. Old Odin probably runs everything."

"I'll have a Venti triple blended green tea frappuccino with no whip, caramel drizzle on the cup, four shots, and chocolate java chips on top."

Clint cocked an eyebrow. "Did you just order diabetes in a cup?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Stark!" A girl with bright red (not orange, distinctly scarlet) hair was diligently working on covering one half of a cup entirely in sharpie ink, "Can I get anything started for you, Mr., um. Mr. Hawkeye?"

"Small coffee. Black."

"So pedestrian," Tony muttered.

"Don't judge me by your standards. You will die a sugary caffeine-related death."

"Did you start the espresso already?" Tony asked, leaning over the counter, "I want caramel flavored shots."

Clint and the employee shared a long-suffering look.

"I guess it's up to daddy dearest to dole out the punishment, then," Tony said when they left the small shop four minutes later, "We have due process and trials. It's probably best that Thor took the bastard back home. Can you imagine if he stayed? The media would have a field day covering the court case."

"He's been gone for a while," Clint murmured over the lid of his plain cup.

"It's only been a month or two," Tony said indulgently, waving at the camera flashes coming from the other side of the crowded street, "And he probably wants to catch up with everyone at home. Make apologies for his baby brother running off trying to take over other people's planets." Clint scoffed. "No, really. I can see him now. 'Please forgive my brother his transgressions, great though they may be! He knows not what he does. Though clearly he requires only a hug to set straight his priorities'."

"Stop that."

"Wasn't there some fairy-tale where they stuck Loki to a rock for all of time? Maybe they'll pull that out of the hat again."

"That was Prometheus," Clint corrected.

"So I'm not up to date with all my mythology," Tony shrugged as they headed for his car. Happy was waiting to open the doors for them. They slid inside, Tony pausing briefly with his bizarre caffeine monstrosity cocked, and took to the freeway. They rolled along with the windows down so Tony could enjoy the breeze. Clint wound his fingers around his own drink. His sharp eyes trained on the skies as they rolled along down Seattle's streets.

"I still wish it would rain."

"I miss Thor, too."

"Shut up."

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading (: Part 3 coming when I can get it finished.


	5. Yggdrasil

**It Began With Blood**

Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for, the prompt said. I kind of twisted that, so Thor decides for himself, but it will follow the lines of that.

**A/N: **Warning for references to mature situations. The timeline is out of whack because Thor and Loki are traveling through patches of the Universe where forwards is backwards and the Flow of things runs differently than it does on Earth. Other than that intended discontinuity, enjoy.

* * *

**Yggdrasil**

* * *

"Come, try again," Loki prompted with an air of great patience, "Hold your hands broad side up. Yes, just so. Now, _pull_."

Thor breathed deeply and tensed.

"No, no, stop. You're gathering it but you're not calling it out. Can you feel it swell inside of you?"

The thunderer let out a breath and nodded. "Aye. I am glad you are willing to teach, brother, thought I fear I make a poor student."

"You have inherited more than my magic," Loki chided, taking Thor's hands in his own, "You have a portion of my wit now. I am certain you have only to attempt to exercise it before we find success in this. Now come. Close your eyes and feel."

They sat cross-legged knee to knee on an empty field. They were cloaked in starlight, brighter than before, yet no sun shone to cast proper light to see by. Several candles Loki had drawn from thin air burned away, trailing slow tendrils of black up to join the unending night above them. Their eyes were shut as they say joined in hand. Loki used his own magic to delve into his brother's latent pool and stirred it slightly.

"I can feel it," Thor exclaimed, his hands tensing briefly beneath his brother's, "Quick, before I forget where it is!"

Loki loosed his wrists and sat back to watch Thor try and access the small pool of magic on his own.

Thor shut his eyes and held out his hands as he'd been shown many times. He struggled, and Loki could see him squeezing himself, before all his disappointment erupted in a gust of air.

"I felt it!" Thor moaned, throwing up his hands in disappointment. "I can feel it still! Inside of me."

"A well," Loki said, placing his hand over Thor's chest to placate him, "A pool from which to draw. It is good that you can find it on your own now. I will not help you this time. But do not close your eyes." He took Thor's thick hand and turned it over, holding it in both of his. "Keep your eyes on me, thunderer," he prompted, "and cast the spell."

Thor's brow furrowed but his lips drew together and he concentrated.

"Not like that," Loki snapped, "Not like you're trying to retch. _Ease_ your body. Think. Remember. You know how it feels. You know where it is."

He murmured instructions straight into Thor's gaze, as though he were speaking to the body and not the man.

"I have it," Thor said around a swallow. His lips parted in a grin under his beard.

"Then draw it out," Loki bid, emerald eyes blazing expectantly.

There was a pause.

A flicker just beneath their chins caught their eyes, and they looked down into Thor's outstretched palm, where a small flame had come to life.

Thor cried out in triumph, holding aloft his tiny fire with incredible pride and wide eyes. Loki's smile was growing but it already shone fierce in his eyes. Always Thor had mocked him for his magic. 'Magic is for women' had been the sentiment of not just his brother as they moved through childhood. Magic does not make a warrior. Now his brother, greatest of warriors, danced about like a child overcome with glee at the cast spell in his palm. He leaned back and contented himself to watch as Thor jumped for joy as though they were still but a hundred years old, just out of the cradle, laughing heartily.

They had left Thanos' company and wandered the paths of void where Heimdall's eyes could not follow. Through shade and empty space did they walk, stopping here and there to sleep or spar or seek a morsel. Thor asked four times where they were headed and each time Loki answered with the same truth in different forms. They were not on a path to Midgard at present. They were not making for Asgard, or Jotunheim. Neither were they wandering aimlessly. Loki let his shoulders roll as his brother put out the flame and recalled it to his other hand. "You will tire yourself, using it wantonly," he said, but the warning was tepid. Thor was just discovering the feeling of wielding magic. Loki knew well his excitement.

"Look," Thor exclaimed, holding out his hand to his brother. It went out in one and came to life in the other. Loki made a small show of applause.

"It is a fine trick! It is of little use, though, unless your aim is to be the best pipe lighter in all the Realms."

Thor made a face as his flame died. Loki remembered how his brother had always been in awe of his tricks, even when they grew out of boyhood to the age when boys must learn to become men, but his own magic had always been more impressive and worthy of awe. Perhaps such a dismissal of Thor's accomplishment had been unkind. He stood to match Thor and undid his cloak.

"All this teaching has stiffed my legs," he declared, and Thor's face lit again as he hastened to shed his own crimson cape.

"I'll fix that," Thor promised, and lunged.

Loki went down with a cry.

They kicked up great clouds of dust grappling. Long past were the days since Loki had found need to lock actual arms with an opponent, much preferring to keep enemies at bay with the long end of his staff or his magic. Thor had always been quick to strike close and quicker to tackle his foes. Even when Loki was bitter and Thor became mulish they found relief from tension in the form of a quick brawl.

A few times they had rolled over, Thor pinning Loki or Loki trapping Thor beneath him, and all the fight went out of them and turned to lust. Thor first took Loki with his back to the rocks spread open on his own cape, the conjurer's nails raking long lines into the planes of Thor's back, breathing each other's air as they came in tandem. Loki had taken his brother doubled over clinging to a rock, cleaved to the marks he had run in Thor's flesh, murmuring sweetly into his ear as the thunderer opened wide and shuddered entirely beneath him. They took and gave in equal measures, though it would be no lie to say Loki preferred Thor do most of the work. His brother was happy to play this part and did not complain if he ended up above Loki more often than below. They were both of them practiced lovers, and so they fell quickly into a comfortable pattern in their coupling, finding with little discussion what the other favored and relishing the ease with which the changes came.

"Come on and have at you," Thor challenged with a great laugh. Loki untangled himself from Thor's arms only to turn around and promptly spring upon his brother's back. This time Thor crashed to the ground.

"You've been had, thunderer!" Loki announced from where he sat square on Thor's back. His glee was made brief as Thor rolled them over suddenly, taking Loki's ankles so he couldn't escape, and they went tumbling across the empty grass. A great sight they made, Mischief god and Thunder god, a great rolling mass of limbs careening about. Thor's laughter boomed across the open field. Loki kept his snickers to himself until he upset them both again, ending their long roll with a sharp thrust, driving his heel into the ground and catching Thor's massive frame with his palms.

They let themselves up and took to circling, arms open, ready to charge at the earliest opening. Thor wore a broad grin though his eyes were narrow with calculation. Loki's eyes were wide, better to catch any misstep in their dance, and his guard was purposefully low.

"Are you going to circle me all night?"

Loki laughed. "Oh? Were you waiting for an invitation to strike?"

"If you won't give one, I will make one!"

That was all the warning Thor gave before he tackled his brother again. They went to the ground with contrasting cries of triumph and surprise.

Where Thor's inheritance from Loki had been mostly internal, Loki's had been much more tangible. Thor now had to use most of his strength to contend with his little brother. The bulging cords of muscle in his arms far outweighed Loki's in appearance, and yet when they took to wrestling Thor found himself relying more and more on his superior knowledge and experience to win out as opposed to using brute strength alone, for Loki presented a tremendous strength. It was not more than Thor could handle, though he suspected that in time as he grew more accustomed to using Magic, so would Loki grow into his newfound strength.

Loki literally knocked him out of his thoughts with a kick to the face.

"I'll have all of your attentions or you'll lose a tooth," he warned with a feral grin. The sight of the expression, so wild on his placid brother's pale face, sent a jolt to the golden god's cock, and he groaned against the image.

The noise distracted Loki but not long enough for Thor to untangle them. The Trickster caught Thor mid-wriggle and pinned back both his arms above his head. The weight of him caught Thor across the chest and, tired from casting magic and their brief bout, Thor allowed Loki to pin him. He rolled up against the embrace to be sure Loki was holding him firm and then relaxed back into the soft grass at his back.

"Is this all the fight my mighty brother has in him?" Loki taunted, laughter in his eyes and a grin on his lips, "A woman would offer more resistance!"

"I would be honored to fight as women do," Thor said amicably, in too good a mood to be put out by the intended insult, "Lady Sif certainly would not stand for being pinned so. I imagine the Lady Widow would be similarly dissatisfied with such an end to any bout you might make with her."

Loki's grin lessened. It was a fraction of an inch of give, but Thor was less than a foot from Loki's face, and could not miss it.

"Brother?"

"I would never end such a bout with the Lady Widow thusly," Loki murmured, leaning down to look in Thor's face. "She would sneak a knife into my heart, or seek to behead me."

"Both of which she would find hard to manage with her arms pinned," Thor protested, flexing his own against Loki's grip. The hands holding him were firm and he barely budged. "If I cannot escape your grip, I doubt the good Lady Widow could, no matter how she can twist and turn her body."

Loki rose an eyebrow at this, clearly considering the imagery this brought to mind. Thor laughed beneath him.

"We have sparred a handful of times, so of course I know of her abilities. She is quite the fighter. She and Lady Sif would have much to speak of."

"Of that I have no doubt," Loki agreed, but he was sitting back on Thor's body, and his grip had fallen lax at his brother's wrists.

Thor slipped his hands from Loki's fingers and caught him in his retreat. He entreated him silently to stay, cocking his knees and putting his heels to the ground so Loki could lean into his thighs. The Liesmith made a small show of protesting and then allowed Thor to hold onto him. He looked at Thor's face as he contented himself with propping Loki up and letting his fingers rub against Loki's wrists, both their hands resting on his ribcage.

"She has fought me and so she will know my fighting style," Thor said, looking at their hands and not to Loki's face. "I will need your help, to change the pattern of my step, ere we return to Midgard."

Loki swallowed his frown at the request. "It is a pretty thing, to hear my older brother ask freely for my help," he admitted quietly as Thor played with his skin.

Thor smiled. "It is a treat to have you come freely to grappling with me, where before you would flee to dark corners and take up a dagger or whip to practice alone."

They shared a smile without ever looking at one another, another private moment all to themselves.

The long while they had been out of the Gatekeeper's sights and the sights of any other searching for them had they spent recovering what had been lost between them. They were no star-crossed lovers, overcome by the newness of fresh love, heads clouded by lust for each other's bodies. They were brothers, and old were those bonds. They were warriors in their own regards, talents and powers of the Universe. Loki had taught Thor the ways to find paths out of Heimdall's sight and the secret patches between the stars. They had backtracked between time and space and found a place filled with endless twilight. Loki had insisted on a candle or four but Thor had found the light enough to count the blades of grass by. Loki had also taught Thor how to quell his body's need for full meals every five hours. They still ate but on a whim rather than driven by need. They carried a small pie filled with Apples of Indunn's orchards kept fresh and sweetly chilled by an enchantment.

Little did they find need for besides the company of one another in the spaces between the stars. Their conversations made warm the chill places, and from their now shared Jotun inheritance, little did the actual cold of space bother them. Once in a while Thor would call for a fire and a proper meal with mead and meat, and they put on a hunt and gathered fruits in strange shapes with bold colors and exotic flavors.

Thor kept his fingers busy walking along the sides of Loki's hands. So pale and delicate, yet well worn was his brother's skin.

"If you tell me I am soft in the ways women are," Loki warned as Thor pressed the pad of his thumb across the back of his palm. Thor snorted.

"You are as soft as you wish to be, moment to moment," he accused, turning Loki's hands over in his own, "You are a shapeshifter. You can be softer than a women, should you find cause to be, but I hope you do not. I like your hands exactly as they are. In mine."

He dragged Loki down a bit to press a kiss to his palm.

Loki felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

Maybe they had a little star-crossed loving to them.

Eventually Thor let his wrists free and they wandered back to where Loki's candles burned brightly.

"I will have to fight them," Thor said at last.

"You will," Loki concurred.

"I have sworn to protect the Earth," Thor said, his brow furrowed in conflict. His thoughtful gaze cast down momentarily to his palm. He had sworn also to stand by his brother's side. He cannot keep both oaths.

"I will have to break one," he realizes.

"Mayhaps not," Loki murmurs, catching Thor's meaning.

"I _will_," Thor argues, standing to pace. Loki lets him. He knows all the furious energy of thought is enough to make Thor's blood boil with need to match such energy in action, and so does not interrupt him as he takes to walking a straight line back and forth in front of the candles. His arms swing little as he walks and his brow is furrowed low. Loki props his elbows up on his knees and keeps a vigil under the stars.

Thor's pacing continues for hours. Loki does not rush him. Thor has much to think on and he is unpracticed in muling over anything for long stretches of time.

The green-eyed god summons three more candles before Thor makes a decision.

"I shall break my oath to the Earth," he says at long last, as Loki is replacing a fourth candle burnt down to the ground. "If your aim is to march on Midgard for your slights then I shall march beside you. None shall stand in your path when you come for retribution."

The announcement is firm. Loki licks his lips, having wondered a while about the weight of a broken oath. "Perhaps... it is better to bend the words," he suggests, "To change the consequences of its protection."

"I will do this my way, not yours," Thor warns, "and I have made up my mind. I shall break my oath to protect Midgard. I choose you, brother. In this, in everything."

Loki tastes triumph.

"And when Midgard has paid its reparations to you, when you are made its King, I shall stand beside you still." Thor's smile is tremendous. "And then I shall reswear the oath which was broken, to protect Midgard, when it is your Kingdom. That should suffice to outweigh any poor consequences drawn from breaking the first."

This last statement causes Loki's eyes to gleam sharply. Thor has voiced the principle worry of his wonderings. Giving oaths means little if one is so quick to break them. To plan to break a given oath is to invite disaster or discord. Loki is fond of Discord, for all her tendencies and how often they run toward mischief, yet loathe is he to call her attentions to his brother, and for all his cunning and mastery of tricks he has no desire to attract the affections of Disaster so directly. He considers the way Thor has come to his conclusion and comes to a decision of his own.

"Were that it will be so simple," Loki wonders aloud "But I bid you withdraw your decision." He held up a hand to stunt Thor's protests as he stood and snuffed out all the candles, "It is hastily made, no matter the hours you have dwelt upon it. But remember your grieving from before."

He held out his hand for Thor to take, scar-side up.

Thor's fingers slid over Loki's as his eyes took on a light of understanding.

"You would have me seek forgiveness from you before I seek to break my oath to Midgard," he said. "You do not trust me."

"I do not," Loki agreed, even as he drew his brother to his side, "Not yet."

"How might I make you, brother?" Thor implored, "How might I win such a prize?"

The Liesmith kept his smile to himself as he turned from their private corner of twilight and tugged on Thor to follow. "You have had my ear a while. Now lend me yours."

"I am listening," Thor says as they disappear from sight.

* * *

When they come at last to the end of their wanderings Thor did not notice it. He was full of all the details of Loki's life. He had heard every slight, every whispered wrong done behind his back, each betrayal. His shoulders were heavy with it. They have walked longer than he has cared to measure in the shallow hallows between stars and Loki had filled the empty space with his quiet recollections. He always imagined the court respected his brother, if not for his own prowess then at the least for his status. But the Son of Odin All-Father had suffered much, much more than Thor had thought to dream.

He had not realized how many of these slights had come to Loki through some action of his own. Loki had recounted every account.

He had _much_ to make up for.

"I had not thought," Thor began, and stopped as his boot came down over the root of a tree.

A root of THE tree.

His eyes snapped up sharply.

_Yggdrasil_.

They had walked through shade and starlight to the roots of the World Tree. All his thoughts fled in a moment. Last he had stood under these branches was long removed from memory. Loki's hands were at the tree's base, where the roots wound thick, fingers splayed against the not-wood. Yggdrasil was not really a tree. But Loki was not really a Man. He was a god, wearing the skin of a man in the way that Yggdrasil was everything in the universe, wearing the skin of a tree.

The lessons were ancient and yet came back as though they had been given the day before. More clearly than anything, Thor recalled that this place was not out of the Gatekeeper's Sight. They could be Seen here.

His eyes fell to his brother.

"Loki! We should not tarry here. Heimdall will catch Sight of us."

"I know."

Thor stopped hurrying but came to Loki's side at an easy pace. If his brother found no need for haste then there was time to linger. He followed the splay of Loki's fingers up to a branch.

"Is this really the wisest path to walk?" Thor asked as he looked to where the branch led. Beside him, Loki nodded.

"It is not the shortest, but it is straight."

"You would not rather take us through shadow?"

"Heimdall will see us on Midgard anyway," Loki pointed out, "What point is there to taking a winding path in the dark when our destination will not offer us refuge from his Gaze? The straight way will serve as well as any."

Thor looked up into the Tree's arms.

"Will we walk it, brother? Or will we run?"

"How soon do you want to arrive?" Loki asked, "We have been adrift in space for a while. Midgard has gone nearly a full turn around its Star."

Thor considered this and his eyebrows shot to his hairline when he realized the meaning of Loki's words.

"We have been gone a _year!_"

"Very nearly, it will seem."

"Then we should walk," Thor decided, shaking his head, "I had forgotten how time runs differently in the Realms. Will your rage suffer another long walk beneath the stars, brother?"

"My rage will suffer the slowness of your gait," Loki said with a snort, "Little will assuage it until I have been properly revenged."

The Trickser's eyes shone obsidian in the dim light around Yggdrasil and Thor could see the truth to Loki's words. He paused at his own musings as his brother started over the winding roots. Truth. Another thought caught him and he grinned broadly, taking Loki's hand with a grin.

"Shall I carry you half the distance, so you tire yourself less?"

Loki snatched his hand away, irritated that Thor had caught on. The thunderer laughed and took Loki's wrist and they started up the tree.

"It is not much of an effort to lead one through secret places," Loki grumbled as he let Thor lead them, "But we have spent a long time exchanging words, and my tongue is sore from all this truth-telling. Less would its exhaustion be if you had been less persistent in hearing all the ways you might make right your wrongs."

"But I asked only seeking your good graces!" Thor said laughing.

"You needed not have them all out of me at once!" Loki chided, "What was the point in making me tell you EVERY slight done to me? You will forget them before we are on the Branch proper."

Thor stopped walking and held both his arms open wide.

Loki snarled and leapt at Thor's back instead and clung there, swatting at his head as Thor laughed and laughed.

Thusly burdened by the slight weight of his younger brother hooked around his shoulders did Thor start his climb up the trunk of the World Tree. His thick arms and thighs bulged with the effort of moving them both yet his climb was easy with the company of Loki's banter at his ear. He felt an endless grin splitting his cheeks with cheer. Long ago he had dreamed of carrying Loki up the tree like this, when their bodies were not so worn with long years of use, when their duties were far less as Princes of Asgard. They were still both Princes of Asgard, Thor thought as he climbed, pulling himself and his brother onto the Branch leading to Midgard.

For the first time since he had split open his palm, he thought on Odin's response to all that had happened. And then Frigga's. And his climbing slowed as his mind found more and more faces to worry about. Lady Sif's. Hogunn, Fandral, Volstagg. He hardly noticed when Loki's voice slowed, but he jumped when the Trickster leaned over and stuck his face before Thor's.

"Am I too heavy for your shoulders?" he asked, squirming against the thick muscles of Thor's neck, "I can move down to cling from your back."

"You are fine where you are, Loki," Thor assured him, patting a knee with his palm.

Loki looked unconvinced. "I can rest my weight on your hips," he suggested, "Or, if you can bear me a little further, I can walk all the way on my own."

"I said you are fine," Thor said, gripping Loki by the thighs, grinning when his fingertips dug into sensitive muscle and caused the Liesmith to yelp, "How long do you think it will take us to wander the length of the Branch?"

Loki pulled himself up out of Thor's view and rested his elbows against his brother's head. He propped himself up there and stared up into the stars through Yggdrasil's broad branches. "It is hard to say. Walking as you are, we may reach Midgard in a week. If you wish to arrive sooner then jog a bit." He was quiet a moment, then squeezed his thighs, rolling against the back of Thor's head suggestively. "Or," he murmured, lowering himself again to whisper liquid temptation into Thor's ear, "If we have cause to pause a while, we may make the journey a month or two."

Thor swallowed thickly. The Branch was long and broad, certainly wide enough to sleep on should they have need to make camp for a while. But never in his wildest dreams had he considered such an obscene use for the World Tree's Branches.

Loki laughed in his ear, a sharp ringing of silver bells.

"Oh, come! Surely it has been done before," he suggested, "The long tendrils lead to worlds where life is constantly created. The Tree is ancient as Time itself. It is no stranger to sex."

"The way you speak, it is as though you WANT our journey made longer," Thor muttered as Loki's long legs pressed against the column of his neck.

His brother's laughter echoed heartily with Thor's footsteps as he walked.

* * *

Much later, when Loki's exhaustion caught up with him fully and he was a boneless weight gathered in Thor's arms, the Thunder god found himself walking exceedingly slow. He came to a stop on the Branch with Loki against his chest and stared up at their destination. Midgard. Home to billions, home to his friends and fellow warriors. A planet of peace, mostly, or at least one which held aspirations of peace.

They marched on to wreck it.

His gaze dropped to his brother sleeping and he sighed heavily.

He set up as much of a bed for Loki as he could make with their cloaks. Seeing him wrapped securely Thor stood to his full height and thought on what he had learned. He let his eyes fall shut. The pool within him stirred, and he felt magic come alive on his fingertips. When next his eyes opened they shone bright with purpose. Midgard had been good to him. He felt still a fondness for the people there, though his resolve to be at his brother's side was firm. He gestured gently through the air, causing the Branch above the one they walked upon to shake slightly. Still wet as the Branches ever were with a gentle misting of dew, the length shook dry with Thor's gesture, and the dew fell upon the Branch leading to Midgard. When the drops stopped falling Thor cast his gaze back to Loki. His brother slept soundly still.

The thunderer drew a deep breath and shut his eyes again to call upon his magic. It was getting easier as Loki had predicted. He waved his arms and gestured. The dew on the Branch before him slithered, coaxed by his magic, and slid on toward Midgard.

Content, Thor returned to Loki and took a portion of his cloak back to rest against. He shut his eyes with a smile.

His warrior friends on Midgard had minds of the same make as his brother's. He was certain they would work out the meaning of his spell.

* * *

**A/N: FIN part 3.** Part 4 will be up when I can get the entire thing written. Thanks very much for reading this far! Your reviews are precious, every one. (:


	6. Interlude How It Could Have Been

**Interlude** - _How it Could Have Been_

* * *

"We could have kept the Cube."

Thor stops stroking Loki's hair.

"To what purpose?" the thunderer wonders. He pulls the long locks of his brother's black mane and Loki settles comfortably against his brother's bare chest. Midgard is stretched wide in the sky before them. They are half a Branch away now.

"We could have shaped our future," Loki murmurs, green eyes alight with mischief, "So much it would have eased our way in accomplishing."

"I am glad we are rid of it." Thor does not stop pulling at Loki's hair.

"That is because you do not know of its _power_," the Trickster argues. He waves a hand upwards in space at Midgard above them. The image of it fills most of the sky. The stars twinkle hard around its edges and halo them in half-light.

"We could have done _anything_ with it," Loki says. There is reverence in his voice as he gestures to the stars. "_Everything_."

Thor stops his fingers again and Loki turns over abruptly in his arms.

They are naked as the day they were born. There is no modesty between them where it is not prudent. There is no one to be embarrassed about the sight of them, nude on the Branches of the World tree, nor is there anyone one to tell them how to behave. They are gods and they are children. They are lovers and they are brothers, naked as blue jays, warm despite the cold light of the stars in space as they lean into one another.

"The Cube touched your mind, Loki." Thor snarls suddenly, and Loki jumps in his brother's grip.

"I bore its presence," Loki whispered, though there was wonder in his eyes. "You knew?"

"I know my own brother," Thor says hotly.

Loki makes a noise and presses himself sweetly to Thor's angry mouth. They compromise in a moment to put the beginnings of another argument between them. This is one of many solutions to their fights. Loki knows that it is not a perfect solution but the bindings they made in blood call for compromise and cooperation. The few sparks they allow to escalate between them have only caused incredible hurt. It is simpler to brush aside their differences and meld together, or to throw one another over and punch in place of exchanging words.

They are learning at least when it is better to defer their arguments than to continue with them.

Thor pulls them apart at the lips with a gentle apology. Loki kisses him chastely in silent pardon and Thor eases them apart again.

"I will suffer no one's touch upon you but my own," Thor warns as Loki settles back where he had been.

Emerald eyes stare up at Midgard as Thor's hands take to his hair again.

Loki's grin gleams wicked in the soft starlight.

"See that you do."


	7. Then Came the Rain

**It Began With Blood**

Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for, the prompt said. I kind of twisted that, so Thor decides for himself, but it will follow the lines of that.

**A/N: **Thanks for reading so far. Nothing terrible yet. It's cresting, though, so the parts after this will come with new trigger warnings.

* * *

**Then Came the Rain **

* * *

With Loki and Thor off to Asgard, everyone goes their separate ways. Except they don't, not really.

Clint and Natasha have obligations with SHIELD beyond the Avengers Initiative and they fade back to black, out of sight and off the radar. No one really knows where they are at any given month. Doesn't stop them from sending Tony and Steve and Bruce bizarre post cards from corners of the world which probably don't even make post cards or have the post at all.

Like the Arctic. And Mombassa.

Bruce hops from place to place chasing the medical answers to life's evolving questions. Children around his ankles and knees wherever he goes, each sicker and less likely to live than the next. His smile is bright like the sun and his words are warm and a little off from the local dialect but he never gives up, and the people of every town never stop believing that one day he'll get it right, no matter how many they bury in the dark of the night when no stars shine.

Tony and Steve head to opposite corners of the country three times, each time boomeranging back without meaning to before they stop trying so hard and just move in together. Stark Tower is under repair and Pepper's happy to have someone to share the space with, says that living with Tony's ego and no one to complain to about it was completely unbearable. Steve is happy to lend some muscle where it can be lent, and they make like twenty-somethings rebuilding a porch for a month, hiding out in Stark Tower drinking lemonade and beer and eating pizza and taking absolutely no calls, eager to ignore the pleas for press conferences and the paparazzi.

Then Seattle happens, and Tony starts wondering if Thor will return at all.

"It seemed like a big deal," he says as Pepper tells Steve where to land an I-beam. "There are machines for that, you know."

"Steve's here," Pepper says, her convenient comeback for a lot of Tony's suggestions these days. "A little to the left. There! Perfect."

The Captain lets the metal down gently enough that it doesn't go through the floor this time.

"He did say he'd be back."

"It's been a couple of months," Pepper says, "He was gone longer than that between when he was banished and the New York incident."

"The New York incident? Is that what we're calling it?" Steve asked as he dusted off his hands.

"Insane Prima-donna Alien Prince invades New York with an army of space bugs and space whales and the press has chalked it up to an incident," Tony confirms, "They're more concerned about where Banner's run off to."

"Somewhere in Madagascar, according to Natasha," Pepper says over the top of a wrinkled post card.

"How's the Lady Widow hangin'?"

"She's fine," Pepper relays, then scrunches her nose. "Don't call her that. It sounds weird coming from anyone but Thor."

Everyone sobers a little and it's awkward. No one says it but they all miss the big guy. He was brash and head-strong but he was an unmistakable presence. It was hard to be anything but, with his larger-than-life good-guy outlook and personality, and the hole in their lives is distinctly sunny, Thor-shaped.

* * *

They're no where when the rain starts.

Steve is in the library and it was sunny when he went in, and it was pouring when he left later that afternoon. He doesn't have an umbrella so he's soaked straight through his jacket and the ride home is hell on his bike with the wind and the water slanting sideways.

Natasha is forced out of a town too shallow not to be literally swallowed by the endless showers. Clint meets up with her a week later when the town is still under water and after another four days of camping they have to abandon the mission.

Bruce finds a way to work on a boat. He has to.

Tony doesn't have to do anything. He's Tony motherfucking Stark, and a little bit of rain doesn't stop him from designing four new sources of potentially self-sustaining energy, each more efficient than the next, each more expensive than the next.

Nick Fury has a bad feeling when Black Widow and Hawkeye crawl in dripping and in fouler moods than him to report a failure due to rain.

* * *

They're no where when the rain starts. Then the rain never stops.

* * *

"The game's been cancelled," Tony says in lieu of greeting. Steve's expectant smile drops to something appropriately crestfallen in an instant, and the billionaire sighs.

"I hate it when I can ruin your morning in a single sentence."

"It's not your fault," Steve murmurs, but Tony's having none of it.

"Look, the dome in New York closes. We can get on a jet at five and see the game there-"

"Tony, I don't want you to fly us up the country just because we miss one game-"

"The whole point of visiting Atlanta was to see the bloodshed," Tony argues, "We're not here for the coffee. That's what Seattle's for."

"The coffee here is fine," Steve says, sitting back in an arm chair and examining the ticket stubs in his fingers. Two decent seats, not sky boxes, not front row. Just something with a good view of the field, off to the left, somewhere inconspicuous in the middle of everyone like they weren't superheroes. Tony had taken three days off to meet Steve in Atlanta for the game. The day they arrived it had been pouring. Steve had gone to bed praying that the rain would let up in the morning in time for the opening pitch. He had woken up to the persistent tapping of water against the roof.

Tony was on his phone before Steve remembered that, to talk Tony Stark out of anything, you had to make him listen first.

"Great. Five o'clock. You know what, make it three, and we'll make a stop in Jersey and pick up Pepper-"

"Tony."

The other man glanced up over the top of his sunglasses and caught Steve's disapproving look. He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily into the receiver. "Sorry, Johnson, Mother's pulled rank on me. Cancel the flight."

Steve's face scrunched up at the name. "Mother?"

"Right. Tuesday, then, see you." Tony shut the phone with a click and spun on his heel. "I can't have any fun with you, Steve, hence Mother. Like a mother hen." He catches Steve's eye over the top of his sunglasses and cocks an eyebrow, clearly expecting a rebuttal to this taunt.

Steve looks at the window instead.

"It's been raining for days."

"It's Atlanta," Tony says dismissively with a wave of his hand, "It'll let up tomorrow."

It doesn't let up.

* * *

Clint runs his fingers through the ends of his arrows. He was supposed to be blowing off steam from the failed mission. Instead he was staring out a window at the oppressive downpour. He hasn't been able to run the course for a week now and it's starting to grate on his nerves. "We spent the summer organizing it before we left."

"I know."

"We laid lines and planted targets. There are over three thousand different ways to score a hundred points on that field."

Natasha nods again as she turns the dagger over in the flat of her palm, fingertips sliding against the metal experimentally.

"I've forgotten where half them are by now," Clint murmurs at last.

"It'll stop raining," Natasha says, "Tomorrow."

Tomorrow comes. So does the rain.

* * *

There's flooding in Kansas. Seven neighborhoods are up to the roofs in water. The Avengers aren't called in for little community disasters, but Tony has radio hooked up to anything that's important and Steve's in the area, so Captain America drops into a small town off the map and helps fifteen families off their rooftops and to safe grounds. It's the work of an entire day but Steve is glad to be busy being useful. It's a shining example of the human spirit when the other more fortunate members of the community pitch in however they can, providing dry clothes and blankets, offering their homes as refuge to people who have lost theirs. There's an Alaskan Husky that swims against the currents and miraculously ends up on a rooftop that Steve missed and barks and bays and howls until it's noticed, and Steve saves the two unconscious teenagers that it won't leave behind.

The Husky's name is Ellsie and she hops off the roof when Steve has her teenagers and starts swimming against the current to another rooftop.

Tony sends a jet to pick up the Captain and is confused as hell when the pilot wants to know if he's authorized to pick up more than one passenger. Tony says he's authorized to pick up whoever the hell the Captain wants to.

When Steve and his mystery passenger get back Tony says Stark Tower is no place for a Husky.

Steve says that Ellsie stays or he'll go back to his apartment in Jersey.

Tony grumbles and glares but adds dog food to the shopping list.

* * *

"I think it's time to do something," Tony says as he lands on the deck of the boat bobbing along what used to be a river and has grown beyond the banks to resemble something like a small ocean. Bruce has everything he owns packed in a single suit case.

"The rain's been constant here for at least two and a half weeks," Bruce says as Tony takes his hand, "That's not natural."

"It isn't just here," Tony says as they blast off gently, Bruce and his pack in a secure grip against the Iron Man suit, "It's _everywhere_."

* * *

"Thank you all for coming," Nick says when Tony finally takes his seat.

"Where's Steve?"

"Captain America and Agent E are currently in Iowa," Nick says, "Answering a distress call that went out right after you did."

"Agent E?" Clint asks from over a Starbucks cup.

"Flooding in Iowa?" Natasha guessed, to a curt nod from Fury.

"He took the Husky?" Tony says incredulously as Bruce slips into a seat next to him.

"You two have a dog?"

"It's not my dog. It's his dog, he found it, not our dog, where the hell did you get that coffee?"

"_Children_," Nick says with an air of sufferance. Everyone settles in and Director Fury straightens and turns to some screens. He hits three buttons and the screens come alive with images from TV reports, from snap shots taken with phones and videos taken from amateur cameramen on the tops of roofs and from the backs of boats sailing down what used to be streets.

"Usually we don't call you in for anything less than a national crisis," Fury says, "But as you can see, the situation is quickly shaping up to something that could be called a _global_ crisis." He gestures to Natasha, who is leaned back in her chair with the closest thing to a sulk anyone has ever seen her wear.

"We were in Israel, location undisclosed, and had to be air-lifted out." She pursed her lips in something between a frown and a scowl.

"After we had to make a _raft_."

"There's flooding in places that have only ever seen drought," Clint said from her right, looking haggard as a person who had recently had to survive on a makeshift raft for two days should have looked, "People weren't prepared. They didn't know what to do with all the rain, or all the water that came with it. Some people were trying to bottle it, so they could sell it later."

"The river I'd been working on turned into an ocean," Bruce added.

"And Captain America is in Iowa fishing children off roof tops and out of the tops of trees," Nick Fury supplied, his one eye sharp like steel.

"Is there anywhere that's still dry?" Tony asked.

"There are a few places," Fury said blandly, "They're all out on the Atlantic, or the Pacific."

"What's causing it?" Bruce asked, "It can't be natural."

"We've got meteorologists that say it is."

"Bullshit." Tony gestures to the screens. "You call that natural?"

"It's just rain, Stark," Fury says mildly, though the tone clearly implies that he's expecting him to pursue the train of thought.

"It's not just rain," Tony says, standing, "Something's causing it. You can't tell me there's a scientific explanation for rain covering over seventy percent of the Earth, fuck your meteorologists."

"Have you looked into any supernatural activity?"

Fury nods in Bruce's direction. "We have, to little or no success. Our experts on the matter are all convinced that nothing is directly responsible for the downpours."

"Who the hell are you asking?" Tony demands.

"Classified," Fury says shortly, "But they're damn sure, Stark, so sit back down."

"Why the hell are we here?" Clint asks, and they all turn to look at him. He shrugs at the sudden attention. "We were called in. Fury said it was climbing to the scale of a global crisis." He took a sip of his coffee. "We've already seen that."

They all spared a look to where Steve's vacant seat was.

"Has anything stronger than a downpour developed?" Bruce asked next, bringing the questions back into play.

"Not yet," Fury replied, hitting another button. The screens all flickered to maps showing rain patterns for the past two weeks. "That's why we waited so long to call you in. The rainfall has been minimal everywhere, nothing close to threatening. No typhoons, no hurricanes, no tornadoes, not even a damn thunderstorm."

Tony, who had been staring hard at the cup in Clint's hand, looked up.

"Say that again."

"If you'd listen instead of stare longingly at Barton's coffee cup," Fury started.

"_Say that again,_" Tony demanded, turning to look Fury in his eye. "There's no typhoons, no hurricanes, no tornadoes, all the natural conclusions of rising temperatures and extra rainfall."

"I thought your degree was in weapons of mass destruction, not the weather."

"You said there were no thunderstorms," Tony repeated.

He looked at Clint over his coffee cup.

The Archer flexed his fingers around the paper and then looked back at Tony.

"Wouldn't he send thunderstorms instead of just the rain?"

"What are you two talking about," Bruce asked.

"He's the god of thunder," Tony said, thinking, "I'm going to go ahead and assume that there hasn't been any reports of storms with lightning but no thunder?"

"Any time you feel like being less vague," Fury offered, "Maybe the rest of us could have some helpful insight."

"It's Thor," Tony said, standing up to fiddle with the control panel for the screens and bringing up more information, "Thor's sending the storms."

"Why would he do that?" Natasha asked.

"There," Tony muttered as the data came up on the screen, "Not yet, at least. No reports of rain and lighting without the thunder-"

"Stark, slow down," Fury said, grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him from the computer, "And start from the beginning."

Tony wrenched his shoulder from Fury's grip as Steve came dripping through the double doors of the conference room. He looked startled to see every one gathered. There was a brief pause before happy barking erupted from around his knees and an equally sopping wet Alaskan Husky darted out from behind him to start at Tony.

Clint wailed in distress as Tony upset his coffee diving over the table to avoid being grabbed by Fury or bowled over by the Husky.

"Captain, good of you to join us."

"Ellsie! _Down_!"

"Stark! Get off the control panel-"

"When you said Agent E," Clint began, and a vein bulged across Fury's forehead.

_"EVERYONE SIT THE FUCK DOWN."_

The Husky promptly sat the fuck down, along with the rest of the room. Fury made a noise of frustration as Steve made a squelching sound as he dropped where he was, directly over his own puddle.

* * *

He waited a minute for order to be restored (for Steve to dry off and find a seat, for someone to put the dog on a goddamn leash, for Stark to pull up the relevant charts on the screen, for someone to bring everyone a coffee and Fury three espressos) and then cleared his throat.

"Now. Stark?"

Tony stood and gestured to the screens, which showed several flooded neighborhoods.

Ellsie barked once in concern. Steve shushed the Husky and gathered her up in his lap, soaking himself all over again as well as the chair.

Bruce fought down a smile as Fury fumed silently.

"There's been rainfall over the entire Earth for the past month or so," Tony started, pointing to two charts of the world. It showed persistent green swatches covering every continent. "The rainfall has been light to moderate in all areas, but as Fury pointed out, nothing but rain."

"There's been some flooding," Steve put in, "directly related to the rain."

"Probably because Thor thought we would figure it out before now," Tony said dismissively, hitting another button on the screen. "These charts show patterns of rainfall for the past hundred years or so. They all point to escalations to typhoons or hurricanes, or they stop at some point."

"But the rain hasn't stopped," Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Which means something's causing it," Tony said.

"And you think it's Thor," Fury finished, glancing at the charts.

"It's not outside his power, right?" Tony asked, "He's the god of thunder. Thunder comes with lightning, and that comes with thunderstorms, which are a kind of storm. It makes sense that he could summon other kinds of weather, too."

"It could be, but it doesn't make sense," Natasha said, "Why would Thor send so much rain? What's the point?"

Tony drew a blank and glanced around the table. "I actually don't have any theories on that," he admitted.

There was a pause following where everyone began to gather their own thoughts to argue about it when lightning flashed outside.

Everyone waited.

Natasha frowned and said it first. "There's no thunder."

Lighting flickered across the sky again, and again everyone leaned in to count the seconds.

"That can't be," Bruce murmured, "There's always thunder after lightning strikes."

"What if it's just in the clouds," Clint asked, "Would there be sound if-"

Seven bolts flashed outside, one right after the other, several hitting close enough to nearly feel, and no thunder rolled.

"It's got to be Thor," Tony said, staring out the window with the rest of the team.

"But what does it mean," Bruce asked as he stood to pace. He thought better on his feet. They sat facing the windows and counted the lightning strikes.

They had been watching for sixteen minutes before Steve let go of Ellsie's muzzle and turned to Tony.

"He's coming back," he said, and everyone turned to stare.

"How do you figure," Clint asked.

"It's like Loki said, on the jet," Steve prompts, and finally Tony remembers.

_Lightning flashed across the sky, thick bolts that split the clouds. Loki had stared up at them with trepidation from his seat. Steve had asked if he was frightened of a little lightning. The god of Lies had folded his expression and offered his answer with an air of exasperation. _

_"I'm not overly fond of what follows."_

"That can't be it," Tony said as the lighting of the room flickered in time with the falling bolts outside the glass. "There's got to be more."

As if to agree, lighting flashed several times soundlessly outside.

Ellsie barked at the window.

"But what?" Clint wondered as Steve placated the Husky with a belly rub.

"Do we have any way of contacting Thor?" Tony asked. Fury shook his head in the negative.

Steve looked up from Ellsie's stomach, "Maybe something happened on Asgard when they went back."

"Thor did mention they weren't on good terms with the people they adopted his brother from," Clint muttered.

"Theories won't get us anywhere," Fury started.

"Theories are all we have until Thor shows up," Tony shot back. "Barton's on to something. There's something more to the message then 'Hey guys I'm on my way back'."

A beeping sound came from the control panel. Ellsie sat up straight on Steve's lap and barked once.

"Michigan," Fury said, fingers flying across the screen, "The Great Lakes are flooding."

Ellsie and Steve were already getting up to leave. Tony stood, too.

"We'll figure it out," he said, "but there are five Great Lakes, and more than three-thousand miles of shorelines. The Coast Guard could use a hand." He looked at Fury. "It could use several hands."

The Director nodded.

"Everyone suit up," he said, "and head out."

* * *

**A/N: FIN part 4.**

Thanks to google for the facts about the great lakes. Jesus this has turned out so long. What happened to the little four paragraph story I had planned for this monster. What. The hell. _Happened_.

/facehands

Part 5 coming when I can sit down to write it. Lots of work next week.


	8. Rain, Rain, Go Away

**It Began With Blood**

Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for, the prompt said. I kind of twisted that, so Thor decides for himself, but it will follow the lines of that.

**A/N: **_This was meant to be one paragraph._ How the hell do I short interludes. So this is a chapter instead of an interlude.

* * *

**Rain, Rain, Go Away**

* * *

Sometimes they don't make it in time.

The houses are all underwater. The streets are rivers, the schoolyards are sunk fifteen feet. There is water and roofing and treetops as far as the eye can see out over the neighborhood. Steve goes out every time with Ellsie and searches the wreckage for survivors. They come in once or twice with absolutely no one.

The word goes out over the radio, over the television, over every channel of media that's available to be broadcast on to grab an umbrella before you head out today.

There isn't a member of the coast guard who catches a solid six hours of sleep in the next four days.

Bruce is waiting when Steve hoists the husky onto the deck of the jet. He hands the other man a towel and drops to one knee with another towel for their four-legged friend. The Alaskan Husky laps at Bruce's palms in gratitude as she's toweled dry and offered a bone. Steve shakes his head when the pilot asks if there are any survivors. They're given another set of coordinates where a distress signal went out and blast into the clouds.

The rain is monotonous against the windshield as they rocket toward Utah.

* * *

Tony is sick of the rain. He's been working on something to dry it up or drive it off when he isn't wearing his armor and helping rescue people from where the water is coming up through the floorboards. Stark Industries is capitalizing on the opportunity to bring out water-proof this and water-resistant that. Tony Stark is busy being Iron Man and Pepper graciously steps in to conduct business as usual. She and Tony and Steve see little of each other now that they're off being busy at different corners of the nation, and Pepper can't help but feel a little put out. It was so easy to run into one another when they weren't trying. Now it's a rare occasion to have both men home for a meal, let alone be home for one herself.

No one really sees much of anyone while they're pulling search and rescue without pause. The US government is busy asking for all available hands to join the Guard and the Navy and the Marines. Local authorities are recruiting desperately for volunteers, which are sorely lacking as everyone tries to get to safer grounds, except there are no safer grounds.

Everything is wet. Everywhere is flooding. Everyone is slowly coming to terms that the rain isn't just an isolated thing and that it isn't stopping anytime soon.

People stop going to school and the universities and their jobs. Big stores are being bought out entirely of bottled water and flash lights and emergency supplies. There is a riot in Kansas for toilet paper when all the major chains run out.

Natasha is helping evacuate an elementary school with a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents midday. There is a girl who keeps asking her if she believes in God, and if she thinks God is a liar or not. Natasha is busy fishing the girl's classmates out of knee-high water and can't be bothered with questions about religions she stopped believing in.

"Do you think that God will save us?"

"I don't know about God," Natasha says as she hands another teenager off to Agent Hill, "But if you'll get in line with your year mates, we will save you."

"But he promised," the girl chokes, and there's a different kind of water running now, "he promised that he wouldn't, not ever again."

Natasha doesn't have time to deal with tears. She picks up a protesting eleven year old and hands him up to Hill.

"Please get in line," Natasha asks. The girl is working steadily on the last of her patience.

"It's been thirty days," the girl is saying, hands wringing the tiny cross on her necklace, "and thirty nights."

"It will be thirty-two tomorrow," Natasha corrects. The girl is sniffling tersely and blinking up at the red head through dripping eyes. An Agent comes over to pick her up but Natasha stays his hand when the girl wrenches away from the contact.

"She's with me."

Hill is picking up the last school kid from the ruined remains of the classroom when Natasha turns to the now silent girl beside her. She kneels in the water and meets tear-streaked eyes. The girl is clutching her cross like a lifeline. Natasha's eyes remain fixed on the girl's as her fingertips come up smoothly, slowly, over the girl's trembling hands.

"We have to go now," she says. "I need you to hold onto me. Can you do that?"

The girl's hands are in an iron grip around her necklace. Natasha turns around and brings the shaking hands up over her forehead, loops them over her neck so she can carry the kid on her back. The girl's grip on her cross is firm and she buries her face into the back of Natasha's neck and clings there. Her last charge secured, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent calls up to Hill for the last time, and they're hoisted out together, Natasha's hand firm around Hill's, the girl gripping her neck and praying quietly into Natasha's scarlet hair.

Clint doesn't think it's odd when Natasha recounts the event on the way to Miami.

"With the way it's been raining, I'd be praying," he confesses as they lose whatever weapons they're comfortable going without, "If I believed in anything. Steve finds time between duty calls to hit up the chapel."

"There's one that's not under water?"

"He wears scuba gear," Clint jokes.

Natasha looks out the window as the jet screams through the damp air. It isn't very funny, actually. Not right now.

* * *

Tony is staring at maps over his sixteenth cup of coffee.

He stares at the screen and occasionally drags his fingertips across the glowing green clouds, turning the view, or adjusting the settings to show different geographical scans. Fury has come and gone two times with different manilla folders, Coulson has dropped by with a fresh pot of coffee. Tony has got up from his seat a grand total of five times to use the bathroom and to fetch a box of doughnuts so it was close enough to pluck out of.

He is out of doughnuts and he is coming up on the bottom of his cup, and he's still no closer to deciphering whatever they've missed of Thor's message.

There is a tongue at his elbow for nearly six seconds before he notices it.

"You gotta take a break," Bruce says as he pulls Ellsie away from the corner of Tony's chair. The billionaire is staring at the screen despite the slobber at his elbow.

"The rain's not taking a break," Tony argues as Bruce swipes his cup away, "The Avengers can't be beat out by some Sunday shower."

"But it isn't just a shower," Bruce says patiently as he tries to reason with his teammate, "You're going on, what, thirty-nine hours with no sleep? Don't make me ask JARVIS for specifics."

Tony couldn't even make the mental jump to preemptively attempt to stall his AI program before JARVIS betrayed him.

_"Thirty-nine hours, forty-two minutes, twenty-seven seconds without sleep, the last nutritious thing he has consumed since coffee and doughnuts was a ham and pickle sandwich over eight hours ago."_

Bruce leveled Tony with a look. Tony blinked groggily and didn't protest with the Husky came and sat her entire head against his thigh.

"Right," Bruce said, "JARVIS, cut the power to whatever Tony's working on. It's nap time."

"Cancel that," Tony shot back, but the lights of the control panel were already flickering off. Tony threw up his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling dramatically. "Betrayed by my own computer program. JARVIS, how could you?"

_"It is in your best interest to follow Dr. Banner's advice,"_ JARVIS intoned from the ceiling.

"Since when do you take anyone's side but mine?" Tony bemoaned as Bruce tugged him away from the control panels, dislodging Ellsie's head from his lap. The Husky's tail wagged as she followed both men out of the lab. They passed people rushing about toweling off and changing into drier clothes. The floor was littered with needless yellow triangles cautioning them to watch their step due to water. Of course the floor was wet. Everything was wet.

The doctor set Tony up with a bed and a blanket. He promised Tony a cup of coffee after he'd had a solid eight hours of sleep and gave Ellsie a pat on the head before he headed out. Tony tried banishing the Husky after Bruce but the solid forty-five pound of dog insisted on curling on the unoccupied half of Tony's cot. He gave up trying after two failed attempts at shoving Ellsie over the edge of the bed and reluctantly let the furry bed-space-stealing fiend nuzzle against the arc reactor.

"You're not scared of the rain, are you," Tony murmured as he folded an elbow up under his head. Ellsie's ears stood up and she cocked her head to the question. Tony rolled his eyes and groaned into the pillow. "I am talking to a dog."

"It's not that uncommon," Clint said from the doorway.

"Go away," Tony moaned, "I'm on bed rest."

Clint smirked and pulled up a chair beside his teammate's bed. He had two cups in hand. Tony cracked an eye open as Clint nudged his bicep with the bottom rim of one cup.

"I made sure they had flavored shots," Clint reported.

"I will trade you sexual favors for that cup if there's anything remotely resembling mocha inside it."

Clint cocked an eyebrow and offered Tony half a smirk. "How about we forego the favors and you just be very very thankful that I'm so thoughtful."

"Is there peppermint in this?" Tony asked as he offed the lid, "I could kiss you, Agent Barton."

"Let's not and say we did," Clint said, snorting over his smirk around the rim of his own cup. He sobered a bit after the second sip. Ellsie had moved from Tony's chest down to his lap and was curled across his legs like a great furry hot blanket. Tony asked how things were on the outside. "Wet." That got him a smack, and eventually Clint regaled his and Steve's rescue of two families set out on boats as well as Natasha's rescue mission. Tony was looking oddly thoughtful at the end of his tale, and Clint recognized the look of approaching a long-sought after answer drawing across the billionaire's face.

"Forty days and forty nights," Tony muttered, fingers tapping around the sides of his coffee cup, "That's a Christian thing."

"It's from the Bible, yeah," Clint confirmed, "There's a huge storm and it rains for-"

"The story isn't important. Thor's a god out of Asgard, not the Bible. It's the storm that's interesting." Tony's eyes moved side to side minutely as he thought. It was fascinating to see him connect the dots behind closed lips. Clint didn't realize he was holding his breath until Tony snapped his fingers in triumph and he let out a quiet hiss.

"There haven't been any storms," Tony says, "but there will be."

Clint's brow furrows in thought.

"No hurricanes, no tornadoes, no thunderstorms," Tony presses on, sitting up in the bed, coffee cup clenched in one hand as he gestures with the other, "Nothing but steady light showers over everything. But this isn't the main event. This is just the set up." He meets his teammate's eyes. "Something big is coming. Something dangerous, some kind of storm. That's what he's trying to say. That's what Thor's warning us about."

"By giving us a preview of what's coming?" Clint says with a frown. "That's not Thor's style."

"I know," Tony mutters, sitting back and landing a hand on Ellsie's head as he stared hard at the cup in his hand. "That's just it. This is a preview."

The archer's frown deepens and every bit of Clint tenses as he makes out what Tony means.

"He's not coming back alone."

* * *

**A/N: **Updates are sluggish because I'm moving. I am getting to the part where Loki and Thor show up, they're just taking their damn sweet time. Can someone please teach me to write less, how do I even. Aasdflkjasd;flkd


	9. Interlude Fool Me Once

**Interlude** - _Fool Me Once _

* * *

Midgard shone in the entire sky above them now. "We will be there soon, brother," Thor says as they slow their steps, savoring the last stretch of their journey. It has been quite some time now that they have spent on the World Tree's long branch. Loki estimates their journey has taken them thirty days, give or take a few turns of Midgard's sole moon. They are close enough to see the formation of clouds across its face. Loki has seen the turns of weather Midgard goes through and is not familiar with the prolonged rain he has seen for the past few days. But Thor fills much of their traveling time with bold boasts of his prowess and making long lists of challenges for when they arrive, and thus lays claim to most of his brother's attentions. Most of his challenges are boring and brutish, but Loki has bet thirty gold coins against Thor's boast of being able to crack the mountain Fuji in three with a single stroke from Mjolnir.

They are arguing over it when Loki steps into a puddle.

"Interesting," he says only as he extracts his boot from the water, "that the Branch would be so heavy with dew as to pool in puddles."

"Perhaps we have shaken it loose," Thor suggests mildly, though his eyes are dedicated to looking anywhere but Loki's, "We have been rather... undelicate with our trespassing."

"There is no such word as '_undlicate_'," Loki informs his brother as he shakes off his boot, "And how is it '_we_' and not '_I_'?"

"You are hardly blameless in causing the Branch to shake, brother," Thor scolds with a broad grin, "So long did your moans echo that fair Indunn in her Orchards might have heard you, and gone red like the sun in shame."

"I recall no such echos," Loki protests, though his cheeks pink slightly when he shoves Thor for good measure. The brute has the gall to laugh at this and continues to grin. "You grow crafty, Thor, but you remain reliably sloppy. Do not think I cannot see the loose ends of a spell at work here." Green eyes narrow in suspicion as Loki begins to wonder.

"Brother?"

"Don't bother me, Thor, I'm thinking."

"Surely you would not be taxed by entertaining a question while you ponder?"

Loki feels a stab of irritation at Thor's jab. The insult to his intelligence is so poorly disguised that he should not find himself affected. And yet he allows Thor to ask his question while he wonders what his brother might have done to make the Branch to Midgard sopping wet.

"Long have we been upon Yggdrasil's arm," Thor observes.

"Aye," Loki agrees obligingly when Thor seems to pause for his opinion on the matter.

"In the clear of the Gatekeeper's sight."

"Yes."

"It is interesting, then, brother mine, that none from Asgard have come to seek us out."

Loki lifts his head and half-smiles. _'How perceptive.'_

"Why is that, Loki?"

The two brothers look long at one another without giving answers. Then, Thor tilts his head back to stare at Midgard above.

"I find myself eager to arrive," Thor admits as he stares up, and Loki sees the truth in his words. Thor's entire being thrums with unused energy, electricity coming off Mjolnir's handle in excited sparks. He has gone a long while without battle and his warrior's blood must be singing in his veins. Loki cannot help but admit to himself that he is also excited for their arrival. The hot embers of his hatred have been kindling all this long while and now he is thirsty for revenge.

"Then let's not tarry longer," Loki says, staff glowing gold as he summons it to his side. His armor gleams as golden light travels over his chest and hips, his arms and shoulders, glistening in the light thrown by Midgard. Thor smirks and holds Mjolnir high, calling out to his own armor. It appears with equal fanfare, a great gusting of wind and rustling of the lower boughs of Yggdrasil as the silver links are called from above. It is the work of a few moments before they are complete again.

"Who will find peace in the storm?" Thor asks.

It is customary, as gods, to spare a few mortal lives during conquest. If they did not abide by such customs, entire planets would fall to their provoked bloodlust. Prior to their descent the gods would name certain groups to be spared, and as a law of balance those named would not come to harm during battle.

"Fatherless children," Loki says after a moment weighing his options. "And you?"

"Women with child," his brother replies. His eyes shine with eagerness. "These so named only shall weather without loss of life the Wrath of Thor and the Rage of Loki."

"A fitting title for our journey," Loki concurs in a low purr, sharp emerald eyes fixed on the sky above.

They raise their weapons and call for Midgard to open its skies. The blue planet yawns in the air above them and they disappear in a column of light.


	10. Ruin Them in Tandem

**It Began With Blood**

Thor/Loki - chapter format - Loki persuades Thor to the dark side and he gets a lot more than he bargained for, the prompt said. I kind of twisted that, so Thor decides for himself, but it will follow the lines of that.

**A/N: WARNING,** for those of you who care, **this chapter contains smut near the end,** hence the Mature rating, _do_ beware.

* * *

**Ruin Them In Tandem **

* * *

They land with such force that two identical craters blossom in the earth beneath their boots. Neither god bothers to brush the resulting dust from their shoulders as they begin their march.

Thor wastes no time in making preparations or calling out boastful challenges to the denizens of Earth. He raises Mjolnir in one arm and begins to swing her 'round. The clouds in the skies above, already thick overhead, come curling when they are called. Loki walks beside his brother in the eye of the storm as Mjolnir's shrill song cuts through the silence of the empty desert. The younger brother extends his hands and lets his linage come to the surface. Blue rushes over him as the clouds tunneling around them grow thick with ice and moan with the cold.

They walk in step with one another, storm-bringer and winter-mage, and summon something unstoppable.

Loki breathes magic into the storm, gives it his blessing and whispers enchantments that the ice might form from every last bit of cloud and come down with as much weight as reflects his fury.

Thor gives it great strength and speed, that it might blow over many miles, the thick column of his arm swinging tirelessly as he conducts the funneling wind and cloud into a cyclone.

They finish their enhancements to the storm and let it loose at the same moment. It groans as it is cast up into the sky. The clouds are heavy with magic and rain and ice, and the great furl of storm clouds draw up high and begin a slow descent toward the horizon. Just the sound of it rolling off into the distance is enough to start a fresh wave of anticipation under Loki's skin.

Green and blue eyes meet and twin grins split the god's faces.

"Our work is good, brother," Thor says as the first gusts of wind begin to howl, "This squall will do us proud."

"We have many more to make, brother-mine," Loki observes as he watches in appreciation the storm they've created.

He feels magic sing beneath his skin as it recedes from frozen blue into peachy flesh tones. _The storm they've created. _He laughs abruptly, hard and echoing, a sneer drawing back his lips in a jagged shape. Thor's gaze is fixed on the storm ahead, though he spares Loki a curious glance at his cackling. Mjolnir hums in his hand and Loki catches sight of the side stained with their blood.

_The puddle has expanded to a pool at their boots. Red are the rocks beneath Mjolnir._

He plucks Thor's hand from his side, drawing Mjolnir close the only way he can, and Thor tears his gaze from the storm on the horizon to see his brother take his tongue to the flat surface stained crimson.

Emerald eyes turn keen at the thunderer's smirk.

"We have many more yet to make, and I want to see my big brother try and split the mountains with his Hammer," Loki says in good humor, "So let's away from this place and continue our march."

Thor's arm snakes around Loki's waist and tugs their hips together sharply. They meet eyes over the Hammer, nose to nose, and are for a moment enchanted by the fire of old burning in one another's eyes. It seems ages since their last conquest. Thor can only recall from his boyhood days the number of times he has fully drawn on what he's capable of. They have both had need to tarry with care. They are gods, after all, and yet now they are electric with excitement at the opportunity to finally_ finally_ stop holding back. Loki can see the excitement fresh on his brother's cheeks and in his grin. Thor can feel Loki's eagerness for this fight. The whole of his brother's body thrums with it, and with Loki pulled flush against him it is as though they are sharing the static of each other's anticipation.

They share a moment of wild, careless glee, snickering amidst the roar of the other worldly weather they've wrought.

"Then we have much work before us," Thor rumbles, his words clear despite the wind, and he raises Mjolnir, Loki in his other arm, and they rocket away from the storm's origins to create another.

* * *

The skies of Midgard darken.

Rain clouds groan as they are enchanted to swell thick with water and wind.

There is no discernible pattern to follow as the gods go where they will, working in tandem to draw up what furious gales would best please them, and leaving as soon as they summon them.

They unleash typhoons, hurricanes, cyclones and great gales, storms which move with purpose and roll angrily over everything. The oceans swell and give up their great bodies to the skies to be poured over the long stretches of land. Midgard shakes with the trampling of the two brothers as they send everything to ruin before them. Loki's eyes are ever bright with eager anger in the flashes of lightning. Thor wears an unmoving grin, his mood made merry while he swings his heavy Hammer as though his arm will never tire. The wind's cry is mad in the air about them and Thor lends his power to give it strength enough to scream endlessly.

Loki thinks of the last time beings from another Realm came to conquer Midgard. Asgardians came to stop them, Odin at their front, and all was well for the Middle Realm.

This time, Odin will not come.

Loki breathes life into another towering thunderstorm at his brother's side and they send it cresting over a city.

Thor calls the lightning and the ends of his fingers crackle with blue energy as the city is razed.

The two brothers stand back a moment to see their good work. Then Loki slips into his brother's unfolding arm and Mjolnir whisks them from the ground.

Nearly four hours do they find no interruptions as they work to upset the world in supernatural storms.

Then comes company.

They are side by side on the outskirts of a French town, Thor swinging his Hammer in one arm and Loki breathing magic straight up into the funnel of the forming storm, when a new sound catches the god's attentions.

Several figures are coming their way. Two flying things, and something large and green.

Thor slows Mjolnir not a fraction but looses her in the direction of the green creature hurtling their way. The Hulk lets out a surprised grunt as it is sent crashing into the ground.

Loki moves his magic from the skies to the jet screaming their direction. Ice creeps over the engine and the propellers splutter before they die completely. The tiny air craft drops like a rock, its passengers unable to eject from inside as the ice spreads to cover the entire craft.

The Hammer comes singing back to Thor's outstretched hand in time for him to deflect the blasts Iron Man has sent their way. The two immortals seek out his shape in the sky, ready to do battle, but it isn't headed for them. It is screaming after the falling jet.

_'The fool,'_ Loki thinks as he watches the metal shapes chasing one another toward the ground,_ 'giving us his back.' _

Loki raises a hand to send the ice to thwart Iron Man's attempt but Thor's hand falls heavy on his wrist.

For an instant, the Liesmith thinks he will have to remind Thor of his oaths and his promises.

"Come, brother," Thor says instead, catching his brother's waist and swinging the Hammer 'round, "We have more mischief to make."

Loki swallows any protest he might have had, not bothering to hide his surprise, and allows himself to be pulled flush against Thor.

"When you put it so, how can I protest?" he murmurs contentedly as they ricochet out of France.

* * *

"What the _hell_ was that?"

"I don't know," Captain America admits as he helps one of the pilots out of the remains of the jet.

The crew are mostly unharmed, at worst the pilots are a little shaken, but Steve was expecting nothing less. Iron Man had caught them 500 meters above ground in a screaming dead drop and barely managed to help them crash-land. The Hulk had found them as Tony started cutting away the ice and together they'd gotten everyone out. Anyone would've been a little shaken up after all that. Everyone was recovering from the rough landing when Tony radioed in that they'd need a new jet.

"We have to call it in," Clint says as he takes a quick inventory of his quiver.

"Call what in?" Steve asks.

"Thor."

The name is enough to send shudders down everyone's spine. For once, it's not in relief.

"He can't have meant to hurt Bruce," Steve says, though the conflict is as clear in his eyes as it is in his tone.

"Hammer not hurt Hulk," the Other Guy provides as he presses a huge hand to his green jaw.

"But he meant to," Natasha argues grimly. "I don't think we can classify Thor as a friendly any longer."

Steve and the Hulk seem reluctant to jump on the assassin's clear call.

Tony isn't so reserved.

"He's back on Earth and he's got his brother with him. If they were here to help with the weather they would've stuck around to make contact. We've had multiple radio transmissions of storms popping up everywhere and they're all off the charts in a way that's bad for everyone. There's over two dozen natural disasters occurring right now in places they shouldn't be. This sounding a little suspicious to anyone else?"

"Tony," Steve starts, but he's on a roll, and when he's right and he knows it there is very little that can stop Tony Stark running his mouth.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Captain, but barely a minute after the report of impact in New Mexico there were four distress signals from tropical storms spiraling way out of hand. Thunderstorms over the Gulf? Snowstorms in Houston? We got at least six reports of unnatural ice and lightning and wind speeds so high off the charts it'd make your head spin. All that right after what looks like Thor coming back to Earth? Don't tell me you can't smell something a little stronger than coincidence."

"It's not like Thor to run away from a fight," Steve mutters, angry that he's angry. There are so many things _wrong_ with this situation that he can't pick one thing that is the worst. The Hulk grunts and groans as he begins to transform. Everyone spares a moment to busy themselves looking the other way until Bruce is back. Someone had the foresight to find a coat and hands it to the Doctor as soon as he's himself.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," he says as he tugs the jacket on thankfully, "but I have a hell of a headache."

Tony gets a radio reply that a jet is forty minutes out to come and pick them up.

"Right," he says, and the faceplate slides back on, "Your ride is in transit. Sit tight. I'm gonna go have words with some gods."

"Tony!" Steve yells, and he feels a wave of deja vu, "We need a plan!"

Iron Man gives him a look from over his shoulder.

"You keep saying that," Tony's mechanized voice accuses, "And then I go and do my thing, and we don't end up waiting around and wasting time. Make like Agent E, Steve, and _stay_."

The billionaire takes off without waiting for the super soldier's response.

* * *

Tony finds them throwing a snowstorm into the skies above Australia. The continent is already soaked through and now thick blankets of snow are spreading over everything. The howl of the wind does little to disguise the screech of car tires, the crunch of automotive metal, and the confused cries of people trying to escape the storm. Two figures in silver and gold are watching everything smugly from atop a frosted dune. His first blasts catch the ground at their feet and Thor draws his hammer in a wide arc as Tony flies in.

"Are we really gonna do this again?" he asks, hands raised and ready to blast back.

Thor looks ready to go as he is, so Tony is surprised when Loki calls him off and Thor listens.

_'There's something wrong with this picture,'_ he thinks as he stands off with the two gods.

He gets a moment to study them in the peace Loki has called for. The younger brother looks as he did when they left a year ago: pale, gangly, and twisted with hate, but he moves with meaning now, driven by some new purpose. If he squints hard enough, he can imagine the leaner god haloed in angry flames. The elder brother is changed little but markedly so. Thor's kind face, open to all with cheer and camaraderie, is a closed stone wall to Tony. The hard blue-grey of Thor's eyes aren't enchanted the way Clint's were, Tony thinks, but something in Thor is changed just the same.

"Call off the storms," Tony says without his usual jaunty preamble.

"Or what?"

"Or we'll make you."

Loki sneers. "You can't stop us."

"We've stopped you before," Tony retorts, "Not too long ago, actually. Does any of this feel familiar to you?"

Loki looks unimpressed. "Last time I stood against my brother," he says softly, and Tony should be wary of the way he's lowered his tone and that he can hear the words even over the howling of the snow storm falling around them, "But no longer."

"Yeah," Tony begins, looking from one god to the other, "I was wondering about that."

The golden Asgardian isn't one for contracts, legally binding though they may be, because what does ink on paper mean to a god? But Tony knows that Thor stands by his word, and he's pretty sure that siding with Loki on something like taking over the world is doing injustice to the oath he swore when he agreed to be part of a team dedicated to the planet's protection and preservation.

"Now I stand beside my brother," Thor announces, stepping forward from Loki's side to put himself between his former teammate and his little brother, "Even with my aide, the battle against him was very near. I think the odds are in our favor."

"You swore an oath to protect the Earth," Tony says, feeling the beginnings of worry take root in the back of his head.

"I have sworn another oath," Thor proclaims loudly, "One with such depth and meaning which, despite your respectable intellect, is far beyond your capacity to understand, metal man. We may have fought alongside one another but I fight on my brother's side now."

_'I will never tire of hearing that,'_ the Liesmith muses, not bothering to hide his grin.

"You don't sound like yourself," Tony says, worry sneaking into his voice.

"Sympathy for the enemy will do you no good," Loki warns blandly, momentarily revisiting the seconds more than a year ago, just before he slipped a dagger between his brother's ribs.

"Is it magic, then?" Tony asks, accusing, "Did you put him under some kind of spell? Your own brother-"

"He has done nothing but open my eyes to my own faults," Thor bellows, and apparently that is as far as they are going to get talking, because Tony is flipping the faceplate down and dodging the Hammer's broad arc. He swings around and blasts at the place they used to be, cursing that they have vanished from his radar. "JARVIS, get me a visual," Tony murmurs as he scans the dunes. A single beep alerts him too late to dodge Mjolnir. Ice erupts out of the desert and Tony grunts as the suit and consequently he is caught between the Hammer-induced drop and the swiftly rising ice. Thor comes back on his radar a hundred feet above him and Loki an instant after about fifty feet to his left just before the crunch.

Loki smirks at the figure beneath his brother's Hammer.

"You may have a Hulk," he jeers as Iron Man tries to get a good angle to blast the ice out from under him, "but now I have something better than an army."

He lets Thor drag him away from Tony's prone form and draw him down into a kiss. The sound of the metal man struggling against the weight of the Hammer and the block of ice stops for an instant, Loki suspects out of shock, as Thor sucks at his lower lip with a low rumble. Thor's arms come possessively to Loki's sides and Loki allows himself to be wrapped up in his brother's grip, doing his best to make a show of how well they slot together, enjoying the way he doesn't have to instruct Thor at all to lean in as he leans back so they fit together, two separate halves of a single unit.

"I have my brother."

The shock at the sight of them buys Loki enough time to encase the metal man entirely in a block of thick ice. Thor's palms come down along the backs of Loki's blue hands as they fade back to flesh tones and Loki endures the distraction of Thor nuzzling into his neck.

"Come," Thor murmurs, "You have me, and now, I would _have_ you."

He doesn't spare his frozen former teammate so much as a parting glance before wrapping his brother up in one arm and whisking them from the dune.

Tony waits until the two figures are dots in the sky before activating the laser. He cuts through the thick ice easily but he's completely encased and even as maneuverable as the suit is it still takes him a full fifteen minutes to work out all the necessary angles.

Fury is hollering in his helmet and Tony has JARVIS cut the audio feed from that line. He can't hear anything over the roaring echo of Loki's last taunt.

_'I have my brother.'_

The suit keeps him plenty warm but he's got shivers all the same.

* * *

Several hours later the Avengers are assembled minus one thunder god. Fury has Charles Xavier of the X-men on the line and they're discussing tactics to approach the situation. The Mutant Storm has been trying to use her powers to curb the damage from the weather but it's been a thankless task. As soon as she finds control of one storm enough to bring it down, two more have shown up on the radar. Most of the other Mutants are out assisting citizens and can't be called in. "We're doing everything that we can," the Professor assures the Director over the com, "But we're stretched thin between assisting communities in dire need and trying to temper the storms we can reach. It won't be enough."

"They _are_ gods," Banner points out, "Even Mutants are deviated from humans. These guys aren't limited that way."

"Something can and must be done," Charles says firmly, and signs off.

"Professor Xavier is right," Fury says as he turns from the screen to his gathered force, "We need to bring them in or bring them down."

Unconsciously, everyone's eyes slide to where Steve is sitting. The Captain realizes he's expected to lead but he never figured he'd be leading them against one of their own. Especially not Thor.

"I don't have anything," Steve admits after a few moments.

"We'll have to come up with something," Fury says, though the vague terms he lays out the command in leaves enough room for everyone to hear the undercurrent of tension. They're not prepared for this. They came together to stop Loki, and that was a close call. Steve watches Bruce's hands disappear from the table top before they can finish balling into fists. Tony upsets his chair as he loudly dismisses himself, regardless of Fury's call for him to sit his ass down, and Natasha can almost see the sparks as everything begins to fall apart. Reports of hurricanes blink to life on the screen as Clint gets up to side with Tony. Fury barks and Stark snaps back. Bruce is pinching the bridge of his nose. Steve is on his feet and backing Fury, and Natasha taps her finger on the table to an inaudible tempo as the shouting crescendos.

Bruce was right. The Avengers don't need the God of Chaos to goad them into discord. They manage it fine on their own.

* * *

A continent away, as the Avengers are busy falling apart, two gods are busy falling together.

"You have been teasing this entire time," Thor accuses as Loki allows him to peel back the green from his shoulders.

The Trickster flexes as his skin is freed and enjoys the way it invites Thor's eyes to rove over him. His brother's fingers and palm trace warm paths over the cool flesh of his shoulders and arm and Loki feels the caresses stir a pleasant hum of desire in him. They have been carnal in their coupling, having only a care for the business of quick pleasure, and it is only now that they are familiar with each other's bodies that they find time to try a little tenderness.

Thor divests them of various clothing articles, half his armor and Loki's tunic, but leaves on his arm guards and Loki's boots. He has Loki pulled across his chest in the thin grass outside the borders of a cold continent. Loki's skin is nearly Jotun to the touch and yet Thor finds he cannot stop dragging his hands across the planes of Loki's body. His fingertips travel familiar dips and curves and Loki sighs when Thor trails lightly over the ridges of his ribs.

They kiss without a care for the weather rumbling unruly on the horizon or the state of their half-dress in an unfamiliar field. Thor's lips open to Loki above him and his palm sits against the back of his brother's neck. The thin line on Thor's palm is a narrow gap on Loki's skin and yet the presence of it sends a trill of triumph down Loki's spine, and to his surprise, he can taste a hint of something similar as Thor's lips purse into a smirk against his.

Instead of deepening the kiss Loki props himself up on his elbows against the cage of Thor's thick chest. His fingertips play with the stray ends of Thor's mane, tangling loosely around a golden lock. Thor watches him withdraw slightly with an inquiring eyebrow hiked.

"You are happy," Thor observes with that triumphant smile as Loki turns the lock between pale fingers. "I am glad of it."

"As am I," Loki agrees. His long legs lay between Thor's thighs, thick with muscle, and the proof of his good mood is pressing against an answering heat. Thor's hands smooth over his brother's sides until they rest against his hips.

"Have I earned another chance to try again gaining your good favor?"

"Fucking me won't get you in my good graces," Loki scolds as he rolls their hips together, "But you may remove the rest of your armor."

Thor grins as he goes to.

They roll in the grass once Thor has stripped them bare and Loki lets Thor bury himself in sex. Fighting together instead of each other has filled them both with such anticipation that foreplay is impossible. Thor kneads the sensitive insides of Loki's thighs as Loki lines himself to Thor, snickering when the caresses cause such shudderings that Loki swats his hands away to concentrate. The earth beneath them trembles as Loki sinks down onto his brother. Thor is thick everywhere and he feels glorious against the chill in the air.

It is bothersome to split his pleasure by scheming with Thor's cock inside him, a rigid brand, impossibly hot and heavy, so Loki lets his thoughts fly and arches up against Thor's fingertips. The golden god hums his approval and snaps his hips as Loki trembles above him.

Thor can't keep his hands still. His fingers travel all over and Loki shivers delightedly at the touch. His emerald eyes cloud with a pleasurable haze as Thor explores his body. The elder thinks he has never seen Loki so beautiful before and tells him as much. Loki snorts and accuses him of using the same line three times in a fortnight, and is put out of his accusations when Thor tilts his hips and changes the angle of his thrusts.

Then Loki is gasping and clawing for something to grip, and Thor sits up from the grass to offer his shoulders to his brother's searching hands. His throat and chest hum with a rumble as Loki drags thin red lines into him. Loki is a coiled spring around him as Thor fucks up into him, his skin glimmers in the cold with a thin sheen of sweat. The flat of Thor's stomach drips with Loki's precome and his own sweat. The smell of it is incredibly erotic and Thor feels his cock throb as the scent hits him.

The earth around them is trembling as Loki writhes. Thor spares a wonder how the mortals must fret for the quakes, but as Loki groans and gives up his throat to the sky, Thor finds he cannot feel guilt for being part of the cause.

They are kisses and hissed oaths and long groans of happy anguish. Thor feels the elements curl around them as his thrusts quicken. Above him Loki is close, so close, and it steals Thor's breath to see his brother coming to the pinnacle of pleasure. The sight alone is nearly enough to send him over the edge.

Then Loki leans up against Thor's neck, nuzzling his way to Thor's ear as his hands find purchase gripped tight in golden hair, and whispers, "_Brother,_" and Thor comes bellowing.

They fall against the ground panting, Loki with his forehead against Thor's clavicle and one of Thor's broad arms slung across Loki's back, their legs still twitching with tremors of pleasure, and Loki endures Thor pressing kisses everywhere he can reach without having to move them much. The touches are loving as Thor can make them. The mood is pleasant, lazily so, and Loki realizes that they have only half managed to be tender throughout their coupling.

"We'll have to try harder," Loki says as he stretches his long limbs against Thor's solid frame.

"At what?" Thor wonders, his expression turning from lazy pleasure to worry and confusion. "Did you find no pleasure in our laying?"

Loki slides them together at the hips where his come coats them both. "Does it feel as though I found no pleasure, Thor?"

Thor laughs and kisses his cheeks. Loki rolls his eyes and bats him off.

Riding Thor usually puts Loki in a brilliant mood. Today is no different, and Thor is thoroughly amused at the way Loki lets him redress them, even allowing Thor to hold him 'just because'. He teases Loki about the flush on his cheeks and all he receives for his impudence in a hum of agreement. It is a little beyond Thor to question the reliability of Loki's good mood following sex for he still harbors quiet fears that his brother will turn over and declare them through, despite the scars in their palms. He hides the worry from his face by burying it in Loki's shoulder and resting his forehead against the soft spikes at the end of his brother's black mane. Loki sighs a little as he's pulled back into Thor's arms.

"You are fooling no one, brother," Loki warns, "You may hide your face but not your troubled mind. Not in my shoulder, at least."

"I am not hiding," Thor mumbles, mulish. "I am well."

"Are you," Loki murmurs, and cards his fingers through his brother's hair. Thor lets him and they lay that way a while. Loki feels his mind stir as his loins cool. They are exactly like that, from hot to cool in the space of a breath, and back to boiling hot again in the very next. Loki feels he will never tire of the unpredictable tide of it. He wonders what could possibly trouble Thor when all is going so well - Midgard is helpless to defend herself against their combined might, and each time they lay together it is better than the last - but he does not inquire further.

He is content to keep his curiosity in confidence while Thor works out the words he wants to say.

It is a good thing he is patient and well-fucked or he might be less gracious.

As it stands, Loki is kept curious of his brother's state of mind for a little while. Then Thor parts them to look at Loki directly.

"As much as it pleases me to remove your armor, I would rather peel back the layers that still part us."

Loki's immediate response to this is laughter. He reigns it in when Thor's brow draws together and his mouth turns down to frown; they have been without warring words for almost a week and Loki sees little advantage in being the cause of discord between them now.

"And what do you think it will take to bridge this distance?" Loki asks, spreading his fingers across the column of his brother's neck, green eyes half-lidded in relaxed contemplation, "What feats of strength would you preform? What gifts could be given? What shows of devotion could you make to seek to rebuild the trust you broke, Thor? It is a long bridge and it is broken in many, many places."

"I know this," Thor rumbles against Loki's hand on his throat. His blue eyes reach across the space between them and beautiful, brash, headstrong Thor is absolutely fearless. Loki feels a tendril of selfish pride that the intense gaze Thor holds is meant for him and him alone.

"Then you know that it will take time," Loki says placatingly, then, with a gleam of mischief in his eye, "And much more sex."

Thor laughs at this, the storm on his face clearing at once.

"You are in an extraordinary mood!" He says as they stand, fully clad once again in their armor, "And to see you so greatly pleases me. I forget my worries at the sight of your delight, Loki."

"My Prince," Loki mock-swoons. Thor barks a laugh at this and scoops his brother up in both arms, ignoring his yelp of surprise to be caught up so quickly, and holds him easily above the ground.

"My King," Thor answers, and Loki stills his struggles.

Thor does not budge an inch as he holds Loki aloft in both arms. He means the smile directed at Loki to encourage his continued good mood, but he sees already that something he has said or done has spoilt it. The faintest traces of worry have crept over his brother's countenance and Loki lifts his shoulders to sit upright against his brother's embrace.

"You would call me your King," Loki muses quietly. He is contemplative in Thor's arms, his expression half curtained by black locks.

"Aye," Thor agrees. "Was that not your aim? To lay claim to this Realm and put its crown upon your brow?"

"But that does not make me your King," Loki says carefully, trying to unravel the riddle. Thor sees his thoughtful look and his smile broadens. He brings his brother down and sets him on the ground. Despite the years between them and the difference in their build they are of the same height, and with Loki on the ground Thor can look his brother in the eye. If Loki is surprised by the intensity of his gaze he hides it well.

"I meant it not as a riddle, brother," Thor says, holding Loki's gaze as much as Loki will allow, "We are both to be Kings, you and I. You of Midgard once we finish it, and I of Asgard. Perhaps not soon," he says quickly at Loki's scoff, "but in time. You cannot deny that the duty will fall to me. I called you my King, as is my right, as it is your right to call me yours as I may say you are mine."

Loki's smile is fond but forced. "Never before have I heard so many false claims from your mouth, brother," he praises stoutly.

Thor adopts a frown again.

"I spoke in ernest, Loki. When you wear the crown of Midgard you shall be my King. And when I wear Asgard's crown, then shall I be yours." There is something purposeful in Thor's tone. Something Loki does not recognize, nor like. The words are right but they are too hot, or too sharp. The distinction from Thor's usual tones is so slight that even Loki, who has spent the longest at Thor's side and knows all the tones of his voice, just barely catches it.

"You are already mine," Loki says softly, folding their hands together before the words can lead them toward an argument, "And I yours. If you say you spoke without riddling then I shall believe it. I am sorry it bothered me so intensely."

"I can understand why," Thor admits.

He is eager to accept Loki's apology and offers the truce that they leave the argument for another time. He sounds as he should, so Loki accepts.

Loki has a care that they have been shoveling so much to the side to worry them later but he wraps the worry up in selfish greed for the continued peace between them, as troubled by doubt and mistrust as it is, and he takes it.

_'There is too much between us still for this to be simple,' _Loki thinks as Thor swings Mjolnir,_ 'but as long as it can be we shall make it easy.'_

They fly off the outskirts of Russia and leave the earth cracked open behind them in deep chasms.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi, thanks for waiting for an update? I've got 2 jobs now so updates will be slow sorry. Not gonna lie, I didn't expect this to be so long? Or smutty, but it happened, so yknow.

Thanks to everyone for reviews and comments, it's motivational in ways I can't express. Much love and thanks c:


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